


Seeking Primes

by WhosInTheAttic



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Sex, Angst, Come Marking, Double Penetration, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Het, Het and Slash, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex, Rimming, Self-cest, Slash, Smut, Sonic Screwdriver, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Timey-Wimey, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhosInTheAttic/pseuds/WhosInTheAttic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose asks the Tenth Doctor if it's possible for him to travel backward or forward in time and meet himself. When he shows her that he can, they meet his future self, and get more than they bargained for. How will the Eleventh Doctor handle rediscovering what he thought he'd lost forever?</p><p>
  <a href="http://whosintheattic.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/400/2950">
    <img/></a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Ten and Rose, it takes place between _The Satan Pit_ and the climax of _Love and Monsters._  For Eleven, it takes place during _The Eleventh Hour_

“Doctor?” Rose began hesitantly, then stopped. She was lounging on the jump seat, hands tucked under her head one foot on the floor and the other leg hooked awkwardly over the seat back. She was watching him tinker with something on the console.

“What?”

“Have you ever,” she paused to shift into a sitting position, “I mean _can_ you—go forwards or backwards and meet yo’rself?”

“Oh, I can and I _have_ , Rose,” he grinned, "Several times.” Rose smiled, watching his grin morph into his patented aren’t-I-so-impressive smirk, “Imagine three of me in the TARDIS at once,” he started, not missing the way she bit her lip and drew in a breath, “We’re more trouble than we’re worth, but we’re great problem-solvers.”

“Oh,” Rose said, doing a bad job of covering her disappointment. Maybe that meant it would be too much to ask.

“Why do you ask?” his smirk became a small, knowing smile.

Rose looked up at him guiltily, “Oh, no reason. I was just curious ‘s all.”

The Doctor knew better; they’d shared a bed long enough for him to know _that_ look. She was curious, alright; curious in the same way she had been when she’d asked him if he had any handcuffs aboard the TARDIS, or if he still enjoyed leather. He smiled darkly at the memories conjured up by that thought. 

“Rose?”

“Yeah?” her eyes shifted slightly.

“Shall we go looking for… _me?_ ” he asked, already moving around the console, punching in co-ordinates, locking the TARDIS onto his own genetic sequence.

Rose just smiled. He could read her so well now; she wondered if it had something to do with the way she let him fiddle around in her head while they were making love. Not that it bothered her; she loved the feel of his mind against hers, the way his consciousness washed over and penetrated her…Rose shifted in her seat as warmth pooled low in her belly. She shook her head slightly in an effort to banish the thoughts. _Not the time,_ she thought. 

The TARDIS landed, and the Doctor said, “I think I’ve managed it,” he said. “Wait right here,” and he hustled down the ramp and out the TARDIS doors. She twisted in place, swinging one leg onto the seat and tucking it under herself. She gripped the back of the jump seat as she watched him slip out the doors. She stared after him, watching the doors and wondering who (or rather, which version of himself) he’d found.

**

The Doctor was standing at his console, feeling quite proud of himself for the way he’d handled the situation with the Atraxi. _You’d think they’d have been grateful that I recaptured their prisoner for them, and saved them the hassle of incinerating an entire Level Five planet,_ he thought smugly; _but of course not_. He straightened the lapels of his new tweed jacket and inspected his face in the reflective surface of the monitor. _Still pretty,_ he thought, rubbing his fingers over his prominent jaw. He regarded his reflection with what (he hoped was) a charming smile. _Classically handsome._ Despite the strange cravings that followed, this regeneration went well. He was in the process of straightening his tie when the monitor lit up with an interesting signal. “Oh?” he said, focusing his eyes on the circular figures. “What have you got for me, Old Girl?” he addressed the TARDIS, stroking the console. He heard the all-too-familiar sound of the TARDIS materializing, and spun on the balls of his feet in time to see that the TARDIS— _his_ TARDIS—was materializing within itself. He could tell from the look of it that it belonged to his prior self, and his hearts jumped a little; with anticipation or fear, he wasn’t certain. 

Sure enough; his past self popped out cheerily, “Hello there, me!” he smiled, wiggling his fingers in a little wave before stepping out and closing the TARDIS door behind him. “Okay, let’s start with the formalities; don’t tell me anything. Not even a hint. Foreknowledge can be dangerous. Don’t even tell me how _old_ you are,” the younger Doctor looked at him pointedly, “I don’t want to know when _it_ happens,” he said, nodding at the older man’s appearance. 

“Don’t you think I already know that?” he said rolling his eyes. His younger self just smirked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” smiled the Doctor, raking his fingers through his dark brown hair, pushing it from his forehead only for it to fall back down again, “And where—or rather, _when_ —are you?”

“Step inside?” the younger Time Lord gestured, ignoring his question.

“Why?”

“It’s a bit safer than me wandering around out here, don’t you think?”

“True,” the older one said, coming down the steps.

“Love the new desktop, by the way. Very…swanky,” the Doctor grinned, “Can’t say the same for the jacket though,” he said, wrinkling his face in a grimace.

“Oi! This jacket is cool,” his older self said, fingering the lapels defensively as the younger Doctor unlocked the TARDIS door again and waved him inside. He took one last look at the interior of his future TARDIS, smirked, and turned to follow the older Time Lord inside.

Entering the TARDIS himself, the younger Doctor nearly walked right into the back older one, who stood frozen at the sight of Rose, who was turned to face them on the jump seat. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello,” he responded, almost breathlessly. 

“You recognize me then?”

“Of course,” he smiled.

“Future me,” the Doctor said, thumbing at the awestruck Time Lord in tweed; he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling. The way his future self was looking at Rose made him more than a little uncomfortable. That reaction could only mean one thing; suddenly he worried that this may not have been such a good idea. Foreknowledge is a dangerous thing, and his older self was giving away more than he realized. He tugged gently at his ear and watched as his older self (with the younger face) walked up the catwalk. Rose stood to greet him, and he gathered her into a hug. She hugged him back, but not as tightly.

It was overwhelming, seeing her like this again, but he knew to keep his mouth shut—he could already feel new memories trickling in; memories of being his younger self and watching this exchange. If it weren’t for his impressive Time Lord brain, he might have been distracted. Instead, he drew back from the hug, grinning, his hands at her shoulders. “It’s very good to see you Rose; very good indeed.” She looked to his previous self, then back to him and reached up to cup his cheek. She traced her fingertips across his jaw, and he couldn’t help but lean into her touch as his hands slid from her shoulders to her waist. He peered at her, allowing her to search his eyes, and then her face split into a grin.

She turned to the younger Doctor and said, “He really is you,” then to the older Doctor, “I mean, _you’re_ really you.” The older Time Lord’s hearts clenched painfully. The younger Doctor approached, and she looked back and forth between them, “I will never get used to this,” she laughed. 

The older Doctor looked at her tenderly, before dropping his hands back to his sides and turning to look at his younger self. “So why exactly did you come here?” he asked, putting some authority in his voice; “Materializing the TARDIS inside of itself can lead to a permanent space-time loop if done improperly; we could be stuck here for all eternity.”

The pinstriped Doctor snorted, “And you think I’m not capable of doing it properly?” he said in mock offense, continuing, “Even if that were so—simple solution; a controlled temporal implosion—though you’d only have to worry about that if you somehow bollocksed up the electricals and—

“I would never—” the elder cut in, indignation dripping from each word, but was interrupted by his counterpart.

“ _Besides_ , Rose was curious,” he said, crossing one arm over his torso and tucking his hand under his elbow, his free hand gesticulating as he looked at his other self pointedly, giving him a mental nudge; Rose watched as something seemed to pass between them. The older Doctor flushed slightly.

The  younger Doctor’s hands dropped back to his sides as the situation sank in for his other self. “Oh. Um. Oh, I see,” he said, nervously straightening his bow tie. “I, um—oh, this is—this is—” he smoothed the front of his jacket and did his best to cover the wolfish grin that was fighting to upturn the corners of his mouth. The younger Time Lord smirked.

“You don’t have to stay,” she said quietly, stepping closer, “but I’d really like it if you did.” Rose hoped he got her meaning, and watched as her words seemed to work their way into his brain; of course he knew what she meant; new memories filtering in from his previous self were clearly framing the situation. He seemed conflicted for a moment, something fathomless working behind those green eyes of his, and she smoothed a hand over one of his lapels.

How could he deny Rose Tyler anything? How could he deny himself when every atom of his being seemed to ache for her? He had _missed_ her; so much so that the ache of her loss (and the loss of Donna, his hearts reminded him) had fundamentally shaped the man he is now. 

“No,” he said at last, his eyes flicking to her lips before meeting her eyes again, “I’ll stay.”

“Good,” the younger Doctor said, “Now that _that’s_ settled, shall we?” he suggested, gesturing toward the corridor.

**

Once inside the bedroom—a spare room with a much larger bed than the one they typically shared—Rose thought she might lose her nerve. Her Doctor was directly behind her, his hands squeezing her hips gently as his breath ghosted across the nape of her neck. The older Doctor stood in front of her, nearly awestruck.

Rose reached out to this new Doctor, her arms bridging the small distance between them. One palm pressed to his chest, feeling the _thump-thump-thump-thump_ of his heartbeats, and the other sliding up along the material of his shirt and curving around the back of his neck. Her fingers slid into his hair, and she tilted her head upward; at the same time, he closed the small distance left between them and he tipped his face downward to press his lips to hers. Rose immediately slid her hands up the back of his head and into his hair. Did the Doctor always have fabulous hair? Was it a universal constant? She smiled against his lips at that thought, and it was then that his tongue caressed the seam of her lips, begging entrance. 

Rose felt her Doctor’s lips against her neck, his hands squeezing her hips, encouraging her. She opened her mouth to the older Time Lord, and his tongue slid against hers. She sighed into his mouth, and the Doctor behind her pressed his hips lightly into her backside. At the same time, the man she was snogging moved in even closer, his hips against hers. She moved the hand at his chest to slip it beneath his tweed jacket, curling her fingers at his waist.

His lips were cool against hers, as they’d always been, but the way he kissed her was intense; passionate and searching, his tongue reaching to stroke and caress the inside of her mouth as if he were trying to map and memorize every wet curve. She slipped her hand from the older Doctor’s side and reached behind her to squeeze the bum of her Doctor, who gently nipped at her shoulder. He reached his arms around her to cup her breasts, and she gasped into the mouth of the older Time Lord.

She was wet and aching, and she was overcome by the urgent feeling that they were all wearing too many clothes. She slid her hands up the chest of the older Doctor, her tongue in his mouth now, and her hands curled on his shoulders. Her fingers slipped smoothly beneath his jacket, and she pushed it down his shoulders, gripping his biceps as he wriggled his arms and let it fall to the floor.

Rose broke the kiss and moved her lips to his jaw, kissing him wetly before taking his earlobe between her lips and giving it a nibble. He gave a small groan at the feel of her breath in his ear, and she tugged at his bow tie, unfurling the knot. She untangled the last of it and pulled it from beneath his collar as she let her lips move along the creamy skin of his neck. She dropped his tie to the floor, and began using both hands to work the buttons of his shirt.

As she fumbled with the elder’s tie, the Doctor behind her traced his fingertips down her stomach. Just as she’d undone the second button of the other Time Lord’s shirt, her Doctor undid the button and zip of her trousers. As she fumbled with the third and forth buttons, he’d slipped his fingers into her knickers. He cupped his hand over her, her curls tickling his palm, and he pulled her against him. She gasped against the neck of the man in front of her as she felt her Doctor’s erection pressing against her bum. She hurriedly worked open the last buttons on the shirt of the man before her, and then pressed her palms to his bare flesh. As she pulled his shirt open, she was surprised to find that this Doctor had very little hair on his chest. She leaned back just a bit to take in the sight, deliberately pressing against her Doctor; she continued and let her hands drift lower and lower on the torso of the older Time Lord, until her fingers brushed over the slight trail of hair that began just above his navel and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. Her fingertips lingered at the button of his trousers before she dropped her hands to her sides.

Her Doctor pulled his hand from her knickers and used this opportunity to grab the hem of her t-shirt and tug at it. His first two fingers hooked into the fabric, and the others caressed the creamy skin at her flanks. She lifted her arms cooperatively as the Doctor removed her shirt; he tossed it to the floor, quickly going for the clasp of her bra. He watched the face of his older self as Rose’s bra fell and revealed her breasts, smirking at the dumbfounded expression that barely concealed the lust in his eyes. The older Doctor could feel more memories bleeding into his consciousness; knew how stunned he looked in this moment, taking in the dips and swells of Rose’s body. The younger Doctor smiled; he could tell his older self longed for her, just as his previous body had. The green-eyed Doctor, still gaping at Rose in an awestruck fashion, shouldered out of his braces and pulled his shirt off. The younger Doctor once again moved his hand into Rose’s knickers, over her curls and into her folds, rubbing a few firm circles into her clit before moving further down and pushing two fingers into her.

As her Doctor slid his fingers into her, the other Time Lord cupped her breasts, one in each hand. He bent to wrap his lips around her left nipple first, his fingers toying gently with the right for a moment before covering it with his palm. He gripped her for a moment before allowing his touch to become feather-light as his fingers traced along the outer swell of her breasts. She curled her fingers into his hair, tugging gently, groaning as his tongue swirled around her left nipple, his lips creating enough suction to pull it between his teeth; he nipped at it gently at the same time her Doctor curled his fingers firmly inside her. The combination of sensations caused Rose to moan and clutch at the shoulders of the Doctor nipping and nuzzling her chest began trailing a his lips to her right breast, repeating his attentions. 

Her Doctor latched onto her earlobe and began sucking at it, his hot breath in her ear sending chills through her, causing her skin to contract in a smattering of goose-bumps. He mouthed her neck; lips and teeth and tongue moving up and down the column from her ear to her shoulder and back again. He slipped his fingers out of her, again moving them through her folds to find her swollen clit. Her hips bucked into him, and her hands left the older Time Lord’s shoulders and wound tightly into his hair again as he once again took her breasts in his hands, allowing his lips to leave a trail of wet kisses to her collarbone, moving closer to lavish attention on the side of her neck that his younger self hadn’t already claimed.

Rose sighed at the feeling of his bare chest against hers. She had to force herself to turn between them; she whimpered at the loss of her Time Lord’s touch between her legs as his hand slipped out of her open trousers. She tilted her head up and he leaned down to kiss her, his tongue delving past her lips and working against her tongue. He could taste his other self on her lips, and liked it more than he thought he would. The memory filtered to the older Doctor, and he grinned against Rose’s shoulder before giving it a nip. She grabbed her Doctor’s tie and tugged it from his jacket (which was still—frustratingly—buttoned), and tugged at it until the knot slipped down; he reached up and tugged it free from his collar, pulling it over his head as she undid the buttons on his jacket.

Rose was in a hurry to undress him, shoving his brown pinstriped jacket off his shoulders and pushing it down his arms. She felt the older Doctor’s tongue exploring her neck, his hands curling around her waist, his fingertips hooking into the waist of her trousers and tugging at them, trying to pull them down over her hips. His hands encircled her waist, thumbs swirling in the dimples at the small of her back. She started fiddling with the buttons of her Doctor’s oxford, but after the first two she got frustrated. She broke the kiss as she grabbed either side of his shirt and pulled, sending buttons flying off in every direction. He grinned wolfishly at her as she bent her head to lick his chest, wrapping her full lips around his right nipple as her hands fumbled with the clasp of his trousers. The Doctor hissed with pleasure at the feel of her hot human lips and the feel of her tongue against his flesh. He was achingly hard and _wanted_ her. 

Behind her, the older Doctor had managed to work her trousers down so they were low on her hips, her curls peeking over the top of her knickers; his pinkies were hooked into her belt loops, his palms pressed into the smooth trembling skin of her belly. Rose pulled at her Doctor’s trousers, and freed his erection from the confines of his pants. She reached to take his length in her fist, but he took her gently by the wrist instead and, walking backward, guided her to the bed, his other self trailing hesitantly behind. Her Time Lord turned to the side so she could sit, and she looked up into the green eyes of the older Time Lord as she held out her hand to him, beckoning him with her eyes, wiggling her fingers slightly. He stepped forward almost timidly, and curled his fingers around hers. She gripped his hand gently and pulled him to stand before her. Both Doctors now stood in front of her; the younger standing exposed before her, his body betraying the anticipation he felt, the moisture at his tip shining in the dim light; the older still hidden from her, his erection straining against the front of his trousers.

Rose fought the urge to reach for the men before her, and moved backward until she was fully on the bed, her head resting on the pillows. She kicked off her shoes and tugged at her trousers, wriggling her hips to work them down and off. Her ardor made her bold; she bent her legs and moved deliberately so they could see where her thighs came together; see what their attentions were doing to her body. The looks they gave her caused her womb to tighten; the younger’s look of lust and want, and the elder’s look of disbelief and reverence. They looked at each other for a moment and immediately began undressing themselves, the older Doctor nearly falling over as he struggled to remove his impractical, dressy footwear. 


	2. Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The looks they gave her caused her womb to tighten; the younger’s look of lust and want, and the elder’s look of disbelief and reverence. They looked at each other for a moment and immediately began undressing themselves, the older Doctor nearly falling over as he struggled to remove his impractical, dressy footwear.  
> _

The two of them, now completely nude, crept up her form—one on either side of her—and began pressing kisses to her hot, flushed skin. They each stroked a thigh, urging her to open to them. The older Doctor shifted over her leg and settled between her thighs, moving slowly closer to her folds. Her Doctor continued his journey up her body, stopping to nip at her hip, and again to slip his tongue into her navel, making her shiver. It was then that she felt the older Time Lord’s tongue run softly along the length of her folds before slipping between them to stroke her clit. “Doctor!” she sighed, and she felt both of them smile against her skin. The Doctor between her legs took it as encouragement, and continued his tongue’s ministrations as her Doctor latched onto first one breast, then the other, before settling into the valley between them, kissing and nipping at the inner swell of each one before using his hands to press them together against his cheeks. When he exhaled against the tender skin of her flesh, she sighed and curled her fingers into his hair. She scratched gently at his scalp, and he growled against her flesh, nuzzling into her in order to savor her silky skin against his face.

Between her legs, the older Doctor swirled his tongue against her in a perfect rhythm. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered how long it had been for him. Five years? Ten? Fifty? Five hundred? Judging by the way he’d acted (despite his best efforts to hide it), he hadn’t seen her for some time. That notion made her heart sink, but the thought fell apart with a flick of the Doctor’s tongue. He certainly hadn’t forgotten what she liked; she resisted the urge to buck hard against his mouth, managing to keep her movements small and gentle. Her breath was growing ragged and she was trembling under the attentions of her Doctors, and that’s when the one between her thighs slipped a finger inside her. 

Rose’s breath hitched, and she moaned softly as he curled his finger against her walls, reaching just there and stroking her _oh_ just right. He worked his finger in and out, and as her Doctor claimed her mouth for a kiss, the older Doctor slid a second finger in alongside the first. She moaned, and it was swallowed up by the younger Time Lord. Rose reached down and curled the fingers of her left hand into the voluminous brown hair of the older Time Lord, gently pressing his face to her and she pushed her hips up to him. She broke the kiss with her Doctor to whimper, “Oh Doctor, oh that is _so…nice_. Feels so _good_.” She tightened her grip on his hair for just a moment before turning her head to reclaim her Doctor’s lips, and trailed her right hand down to encircle his weeping erection. She stroked him firmly and he growled into her mouth. He bit her lower lip as she ran her thumb over the tip of him, collecting a bit of the fluid she found there. She brought it to her mouth and looked him in the eye was she wrapped her lips around her damp thumb, swirling her tongue over it, stealing a taste of him. 

The Doctor was captivated by her actions, gazing at her lips as they moved and flexed over her thumb before meeting her honey-brown eyes with a prurient expression of his own. She smiled seductively around her wet digit, and the Doctor’s hearts fluttered at the nearly-electric feeling that passed between them. Rose leaned in and kissed his lips, causing him to whimper at the taste of his flavor mixed with the slightly sweet taste that was Rose, and just a hint of the older Time Lord’s mouth—still clinging to and lingering in the folds and curves of her mouth. _Vanilla,_ the younger Doctor realized, and immediately the memories filled the older Time Lord’s mind. He groaned, and shifted the rhythm of his tongue.

Suddenly, Rose’s back arched and she broke the kiss as her head fell to the pillow; her eyes shut tight and she gasped almost silently; his counterpart had very clearly found the right spot, and was working it with everything he had. The younger Doctor stroked lazily at the flesh of her torso as he watched her getting closer and closer to orgasm.

The Doctor savored every sound and every movement from Rose as he furiously worked his Time Lord brain to memorize every facet of her flavor, her smell, and the way her hips bucked gently into him while her thighs pressed slightly against his ears as her feet slid slowly up his torso. He curled his fingers in just the right place; the place inside her that she loved most when he moved against. He was rewarded with the beautiful sound of a breathy sigh, and the arching of her back. He knew he would never forget her reaction to his touch; he could feel her toes curling against his ribs, and he gave a soft hum. Oh. That was all it took, and Rose was crying out, “Doctor!” followed by wordless endearments and cries of pleasure. Her hand twisted a bit harder in his hair, almost painfully and she cried out “Oh fuck, _fuck,_ oh my God!” He could feel her muscles clenching around his fingers, and couldn’t help the swell of male pride that pulled the corners of his mouth into a smug smile. He lapped at her gently, easing her down from the height of her pleasure, slowly withdrawing his fingers from her so he could lap at them as well.

The younger Doctor watched his other self taking in Rose’s flavor, strangely aroused by the look in his eyes; it was that of a man who’d stumbled upon an oasis after days lost in a desert. “You should have her now,” her Doctor said to his older self. That hungry and longing way the older Time Lord had been looking at Rose—touching her—made him think that his counterpart needed this; needed _her_. He tried not to think about what that meant for his own future. The older Doctor propped himself up on his elbows, and used one hand to wipe his chin.

“Is that—is that alright with _you,_ Rose?” he asked.

She looked to her Doctor, lying next to her but no longer touching her, head propped up on his hand, watching Rose and his older self intently. Her body was still humming with the pleasure of her orgasm, and it emboldened her. She looked to this older Doctor, shorter than hers, lean, but not as slim as her Doctor, great hair, green eyes, and _oh yes._ Yes, it was _very_ alright. “Yeah,” she sighed, “I want you, Doctor. Make love to me.”

The Doctor slowly crept up her body, kissing the juts of her hip bones, her navel, her breasts, her collarbone, and her neck before finally cupping her cheek. He peered down at her as he settled between her thighs, pressing his hips to hers. He gazed into her eyes; his face was so close that his hair was tickling her forehead. “Rose Tyler, I have always loved you, and I _will_ always love you,” he whispered in Gallifreyan. With that, he guided himself into her, gasping at the sensation. She was so _hot_ and so _wet_ and he was _making love_ to Rose Tyler. He thought he’d never see her again, and now they were _together_ , if only this one last time.

The younger Doctor watched as the Gallifreyan words fell from the lips of his older self; Rose understood they were important words, but she didn’t know their meaning. He was silently grateful to his older self for leaving those words to him. He knew he would say them to her soon; first he had to work up the courage. Had to accept that something would happen one day that would cause his future self to look at Rose like…well, the way the older Time Lord looked at her during his first moments aboard his former TARDIS; the way he was looking at her now as he moved within her.

Rose held the older Doctor to her as he began to move, slowly and softly at first; she gripped his waist and his bum, and pulled him to her. He propped himself up on a hand and an elbow, and let his pace be guided by her. Faster. Harder. She was moaning beneath him, calling out his name, pulling him to her. 

The younger Doctor watched them move together; the motion of their joined bodies in perfect sync, sweat building between them—mostly Rose’s—human pheromones saturating the air of the enclosed space, causing his loins to ache. The older Time Lord dipped his head to taste her lips again, then pressed kisses to her jaw, working his way to her neck, all the while rolling his hips and arching his back rhythmically. Rose rolled her hips against his and when she called out again, tipping her head back, he couldn’t help himself; endearments and declarations poured out of him in Gallifreyan, “I love you. I need you. Never forget you. Never forget this…oh Rose.” He repeated her name over and over in whimpers and sighs, gasps and suppressed shouts against the soft skin of her exposed neck. 

The shape of the words and the pleading emotion in the Doctor’s voice nearly did her in, but as he repeated her name like a prayer, he reached down and gripped her hip. He slid his hand along her outer thigh, pulling at it gently, shifting the angle, and suddenly he was _just there_ and, “Oh!” Rose cried. The Doctor began a hard and steady rhythm, working himself against her walls just the way she wanted— _needed_ —him to. His new body seemed to know her just as well as the body of the Doctor lying next to them. Same man, new face; there was no doubting it. Only one man could make her feel…

_…feel…_

_…so…_

Rose’s thoughts fell apart as she came, writhing and trembling beneath the older Doctor. As she cried out, he did too, allowing his orgasm to take him. She felt the double-time throb of him within her as he emptied himself; she rolled her hips against him weakly until her waves of pleasure subsided. He leaned down to kiss her languidly for a moment, his chest to hers, the beat of his hearts thrumming against her chest, slowly returning to normal. He was propped up on his elbows, his face nearly touching hers; he moved his head slowly, deliberately tickling her face with his fringe between placing kisses on her lips, her cheeks, her closed eyelids, and her forehead. After several minutes, he reluctantly rolled off to lie beside her.

Rose’s breathing was still shaky; she smiled at the older Time Lord before turning to grab her Doctor weakly by the shoulders and pull his mouth to hers. He rolled so he was half on top of her, pressing his knee against her; she was already reaching down to encircle him. She stroked him languorously several times, spreading his own moisture along his length. Rose leaned to whisper in his ear, her breath tickling him, “I want you,” she pleaded, giving him a gentle squeeze, “Both of you.”

The older Doctor shifted, reaching for Rose’s hip. The moment she’d uttered the words to the younger him, the memories formed. He was suddenly bombarded with memories of watching himself as he’d made love to Rose, and the thought of that, mixed with the anticipation of what was to come made him instantly hard. Rose turned to the older Time Lord once more, moving down his body; she silently thanked evolution for this _superior Time Lord biology_ her Doctor was always going on about before taking him between her lips. Her mouth full, she moaned around him, enjoying their mingled flavors as her tongue swirled against the soft flesh of his firm length.

“Rose!” he gasped. She settled herself on her knees, tucked between his thighs, propped up on one hand while the other gripped the base of him. He watched as she engulfed him again and again, as his shaft disappeared and reappeared from between her lips. He groaned and gave a small sigh, following the lines of her body, eyes skating down the curve of her spine to see his younger self on his knees behind her, lining himself up at her entrance. As the younger Doctor rubbed himself teasingly between her folds, she moaned, which in turn made the Time Lord below her curl his fingers into her soft, blonde hair. The Doctor gripped Rose’s hip and guided himself into her warmth, biting his lip to brace against the pleasure and heat. He stilled for a moment and sighed before he began thrusting deeply and firmly into her. The older Time Lord couldn’t help but watch as his younger self moved into and against Rose. The older Doctor’s breath hitched as his younger self’s eyes fell shut, his lips parted slightly, and tongue perched just so between his teeth. His counterpart’s memories trickled into his mind, and after a moment the younger Doctor opened his eyes to watch Rose’s mouth work the length of his older self.

He shivered at the sight of his future self, wriggling and helpless beneath Rose’s attentions, watching Rose please a man who was him but _not him_ at the same time. Smirking as he watched everything he was thinking in this moment slip into the mind of his older self in the form of memory. In that instant his older self glanced up at him in understanding, his hands in Rose’s hair, fingers curling weakly into her blonde locks before closing his eyes and letting a shuddering sigh escape him.

Rose was surprised at how much she enjoyed this; it was better than her fantasies. Being pleased and worshiped by two versions of the man she loved, pleasing and worshiping them, knowing they each loved her in turn. She was glad she’d worked up the nerve to ask, or rather, that her Doctor was able to read between the lines and offer what she was too shy to request. Her Doctor behind her, filling her, the fingers on one hand pressing into her hips, the fingers of the other reaching past her curls to rub circles into her sensitive clit; the Doctor beneath her, who only moments ago looked at her with so much reverence that it nearly broke her heart.

Rose pushed back into the thrusts of her Time Lord, careful to keep a proper rhythm with her mouth. The younger Time Lord stopped his motions and withdrew. “Are you ready, Rose?” he asked softly. “Do you still want to…” he trailed off, and Rose released the older Doctor with a quiet pop. 

“Yeah, I think I do,” she smiled knowingly, first over her shoulder at her Doctor, and then at the Doctor beneath her. She crawled up the body of the older Time Lord, and smiled at him. She leaned down and whispered, “I thought I’d have you both. ‘s that alright with you?”

“I, um—I, _yes_ it’s—that would be—” he stopped himself from bumbling on and leaned up to kiss her. Moments after their lips met, she slipped a hand between them and guided him into her warmth. She sat up, straightening her back for a moment, rolling her hips against him a few times as he thrust up into her; the older Doctor saw his younger self sidling up behind her, embracing her and cupping her breasts, he buried his face in her neck, nipping at her flesh as she moved on top of him, glancing down at his older self as he marked Rose’s tender flesh.

It was incredibly erotic for the older Time Lord, watching the man he used to be giving pleasure to the woman he loved, while she was beautifully, incredibly, _impossibly_ on top of him. The memories were flooding his brain, the memories of kissing her neck as he looked down at himself, and it made him call out. Part of him pondered whether he was dreaming, or if maybe he had stopped off at a pleasure planet and forgotten about it; forever trapped in a virtual reality protocol. But oh. _Oh._ Now Rose was leaning over him, holding him tightly; her breasts were pressed to his chest, and her lips were claiming his once again. 

As the younger Doctor watched Rose bend to kiss the older Time Lord, his eyes raked over the curve of her spine and across her bum. He watched for a moment where the two were joined, knowing that one day he would be _him_ and could further enjoy the memory. The other Doctor groaned into Rose’s mouth, and the Doctor smirked; clearly he was presently benefitting from the younger Doctor’s observations. The Doctor leaned forward on his knees and pressed himself gently to Rose’s tight entrance. He was already slick with her juices, aching with need; he slipped slowly into her, and she broke the kiss to let out a loud pain-tinged groan of pleasure. It was all he could do to take it slow, slide into her bit by bit rather than all at once. He watched himself disappear into her body, and bit his lip to stifle a growl.

Rose felt herself stretch as her Doctor entered her. She groaned at the sensation; she felt impossibly full as she propped herself up on her hands again. She moved with her Doctors, her body already quivering at the feel of the rhythm of twin sets of double pulses inside her. Her Doctor alternated between gripping her hips, stroking her back, and bending to nip at her flesh, while the Doctor underneath her stroked her breasts and—between kisses—looked up at her as if she were a goddess. She’d only seen the Doctor give her that look a handful of times, and he’d had blue eyes and a Northern accent then. The familiarity almost burned, but when she leaned down to kiss his lips, it just felt _right_.

_Sod twenty-first century morals,_ she thought, scolding her own hang-ups as well as the culture that produced them, _this is where I belong_. She felt her orgasm coiling like a spring inside her, and as it tightened, she grew more sensitive and could feel her Time Lords more and more. Their pulses, the warmth of their skin within and against her, the rise and fall of their chests; she became hyper-aware of the sweat that clung to her body, and the feel of the air in her lungs. Her Doctor leaned against her back, pressing her fully against the Doctor beneath her, both of them thrusting into her rhythmically. There was so much heat, so much skin, and it was all too much; the waves of Rose’s orgasm crashed over her, swept her out and away, far from shore and she was calling out. “Doctor, I need you! Oh! I want you I need you I want you foreverandeverandever _ohGOD!_ ”

It was during her declaration that both Doctors allowed themselves release, filling the room with the sounds of three voices calling out, Rose to her Doctors, and each of them to her. After a several minutes of labored breathing and weak but giddy laughter between them, the Doctor beneath Rose spoke, “I don’t want to spoil the moment,” he said, “but the weight of the two of you is a bit… _elephanty._ ”

“Oi!” the younger Doctor said, rolling off and coming to a rest beside them.

“Rude and _still_ not ginger,” Rose giggled, slapping his shoulder playfully as she rolled off the older Doctor to curl up between the two of them. The two Doctors curled up close to her; the younger one spooned directly against her back, the older one curling his arm around the flank of his counterpart to pull himself closer. The younger Doctor wasn’t as bothered by the contact as he thought he’d be; he brought his own arm around to grip the waist of his older self, encouraging him to move closer, pressing Rose between them.

The older Doctor was nearly nose-to-nose with his pink and yellow human, her eyes rapidly growing heavy. He leaned forward the slightest bit and kissed the end of her nose. She smiled sleepily, and whispered, “That was amazin’,” and the younger Doctor watched the elder as he watched Rose drift off to sleep. 

“She’s incredible, you know,” the younger said quietly

“Of course I know.”

“Absorbed the power of the time vortex.”

“Stayed with us—loved us—even after the regeneration.”

“Helped us destroy the devil,” the younger said, not missing the smile of his older self.

“Oh, she was simply _brilliant_ that day.”

“Yes she was, but of course; we only take the best,” the younger one reminded.

The older Doctor moved his hand from the younger Time Lord’s side so he could cup Rose’s cheek, causing her to stir. He smiled at her, his eyes suddenly wet with unshed tears as he regarded his younger self once more. “I should really be going,” he said, starting to shift.

“Please don’t,” Rose grumbled pleadingly, opening her eyes and wrapping her arm around him. “Jus’ stay a bit longer, yeah?” She pulled him to her weakly as she wriggled against her Doctor to be sure he was there, and that he knew she meant him too. She mumbled something indiscernible, followed by “…a proper lie-in,” and both Time Lords smiled, The older Doctor returning his hand to the flank of his counterpart to pull the three of them together in one embrace.

As Rose slept between them, the two Doctors whispered to each other in Gallifreyan, both finding a measure of bittersweet comfort in hearing the language spoken; they reminisced; chatting about their shared memories as to avoid destroying their personal timeline and creating universe-shredding paradoxes. They paused intermittently to admire Rose and take in the sounds of her shallow breathing.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning...

Rose awoke to the feel of her Doctor curled against her. She was on her back, partially under the sheet with the Doctor’s leg slightly over hers, his arm thrown across her torso to lightly grip her bicep. She gave a small sigh as she opened her eyes, and found that her hand was resting on his forearm.  She leaned in for a cuddle and to breathe in his scent.

“Good morning,” he said cheerily.

“Good morning,” Rose said; her voice was still scratchy with sleep. She turned her head further and leaned into him, inching her nose closer to the skin that was taut over his collarbone; he smelled like her, and them and sex and—

“Oh,” she said, as the events of the night before poured back into her consciousness. She immediately reached to the other side of her, hoping her hand would fall upon the cool flesh of the other Time Lord. Instead, it found only empty sheets; her heart sank. “Did he--?” she started.

“No,” she looked up to see her Doctor smiling, “He got restless; he’s in the galley; thought you might like some tea.”

“Well that’s nice,” she said, turning her body toward his. The Doctor slid his hand down and rested it at her waist. “Always a gentleman, you,” she said, flashing him a tongue-touched smile. She looked at his hair, sticking up this way and that, flattened in some places. As she met his eyes, she thought of how much she loved seeing him this way; adorably tousled with strange pink lines pressed into his skin from hours of lying in bed (even though he rarely slept, he would often lay beside her until she did). “So,” she paused biting her lip, “About last night…” her eyes shifted to take in his freckles before returning to his eyes again, “Are you… _okay_ with this? With what happened?” _With sharing me?_ she didn’t say, but it was written in the lines of her face. Rose knew the idea of a thing and the reality of it were two very different animals.

“Rose,” he said, softly trailing his fingers up and along her ribs before palming her cheek. What could he say? _Rose, this sort of thing wasn’t unheard of on Gallifrey; a bit frowned upon maybe…welllll, a bit more than_ a bit, _but—_ goodness, even his thoughts were gobby. “It’s all…brilliant,” he said, leaning in to give her a soft kiss before pulling back again, “Seeing you, with me…well, _him-_ me; it’s, welllll,” he reached to ruffle the hair at the back of his head, “It’s—I don’t mean to be prurient, Rose, but I…” he trailed off, unable to quite get the words out, instead letting a salacious leer upturning one corner of his mouth say it for him.

Rose raised an eyebrow, mirroring his expression, “You like it; watchin’ me with another man.”

“Another man? Not a _chance_. Another _me_? Oh yes!” he pulled her close and captured her lips for a playful snog, deliberately pressing his fingers into her sides where he knew it would make her squirm and giggle. “And,” he added, “If you two would like a bit of one-on-one time…” he trailed off, letting that same leer play at his mouth, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“Doctor!” she said, and swatted him.

“Just letting you know that I am completely and totally okay with you—”

“Shagging your future-self rotten?”

“Exactly,” he grinned smugly, before allowing his lips to delve playfully into the crook of her neck, so that when he added, “In fact, I insist on it,” it was muffled by her skin. What he didn’t say, and what didn’t bear thinking at that moment; he didn’t mind sharing with himself because he could see the longing in those green eyes; he knew that version of himself had already lost Rose. He knew the day would come when he would be that man, and to bear a small twinge of petty jealousy now meant that sometime in the future, he could see her, hold her, _have_ her again. This time-bending kink may have its pitfalls, but when he became the other man, any jealousy endured now would pay for itself in spades.

Rose’s skin flushed at the feel of her Doctor’s lips against her neck, and she couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of the older Time Lord on top of her, and how he might lavish his attention her body when not self-conscious under the eyes of his younger self.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The Doctor was walking down the long corridor; a tea tray held precariously with both hands, three empty teacups stacked on the tray rattled against each other with each step. Curls of steam floated up from the spout of the large teapot beside them.

The memories of this morning started to creep in at the edges of his brain before rushing in full-force. Oh. And here was the downside to this temporal fiddling. The words his younger self had spoken to Rose only moments before bounced around harshly in his head, and—although he could clearly remember both timelines—the rippling effect set to knocking about all of the precariously hung memories, changing the shape of them just enough that they didn’t sit in quite the same way. The lump in his throat was definitely not from the sting of irony.

What he’d said to Rose all those years ago (five minutes ago) had been true; he had enjoyed watching her with his older self. Only then, he hadn’t realized his future self was his _next_ self. Nor had he realized that one day he’d be standing on a wind-swept beach watching Rose kiss another him—that time with the _same_ face. His hearts seemed to stutter as he recalled the last time he’d seen Rose Tyler’s face; lips pressed to the mouth of a man identical to the one presently sharing a bed with the her.

The Doctor stood still in the corridor as that fact sunk in. He’d been so happy and so dumbstruck at the sight of Rose (the sound of her, the _smell_ of her), that every other thought had been pushed aside. This ache in his hearts, the jealousy of his younger self’s ignorance, and the biting temptation to re-write his timeline were all chief reasons his people had frowned on this sort of thing. Now here he was, standing outside the bedroom, listening to Rose giggle, remembering being the younger him, hearing footsteps in the corridor, and hearing them stop. The Doctor braced himself for the sight of them in each other’s arms, expected it to cut him to the quick, to be overcome with anger, the desire to punch his younger self squarely in the face for Canary Wharf and the perceived transgressions of his future metacrisis; but when he toed the door open and the couple came into view, he felt none of those things.

Rose looked at him cheerfully, stifling a giggle as his younger self nuzzled and mouthed her exposed neck. “You made tea?” Rose grinned, sitting up, escaping the playful lips of the other Time Lord. She made no effort to hide her bare chest, and his eyes couldn’t help but explore the curves of her breasts; the older Doctor swallowed thickly as his hands tightened their grip on the tray. He brought his eyes back to her face and saw her lips quirked into the self-satisfied grin of a woman who knows she’s wanted.

He looked on as his younger self regarded him intently, only to see himself in memory, slightly disheveled; shoes off, black socks, his braces hanging from his trousers, the collar of his shirt open (his bow tie was still on the floor), his shirtsleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows. His shirt was partially untucked, his hair a bit tousled, his green eyes flickering with lust for Rose and relief at something unknown.

“I did,” he replied, setting the tray on the bed, “Three kinds of tea, milk, honey, sugar, lemon, and,” he grinned, pulling lifting a silver dome to reveal a plate of biscuits, “Jammie Dodgers.” He finished with a triumphant, “Ha!” and settled on the bed.

“Oi, don’t you think you’re a tad over-dressed?” Rose laughed as she sorted their cups. She and the other Doctor were sitting up; both naked, less the sheet draped over them.

The Doctor looked puzzled for a moment, looking back and forth between the two, “Yes! Right. Okay then,” he said, standing to divest himself of all but his pants before stretching out on the bed beside them.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After their tea, the younger Doctor yawned and stretched before turning to his bedmates, “Well then, I think I might nip into the shower, and then get to those repairs I was planning on,” he said, hopping out of bed to stand, limbs akimbo and completely unashamed of his nakedness. Rose couldn’t help but rake her eyes over him, and when she met his gaze, he was giving her a knowing look. He bent to kiss her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Go on, then,” he gave a slight nod toward the back of his older self, who had gotten up to place the tray of empty teacups on a desk in the corner.

With that, the younger Time Lord stooped to retrieve his clothes from the floor as the older man turned back to the bed as was greeted by a pointed look from his younger self. The hint of a smile spread across the younger Doctor’s lips as a brand new, old memory crept into the elder’s head. _Get in that bed, you git._ With that, the younger Time Lord put on his pants and trousers, threw on his shirt, and strolled out with it still unbuttoned, his socks and trainers in one hand.

It had taken Rose very little cajoling to convince the older Doctor to stay, “Just a bit longer,” she’d said, pleading gently and allowing a hint of her thoughts to creep into her eyes. She’d patted the empty place that’d he’d occupied previously and rubbed a small circle against the sheets as she spoke, “Come back to bed?” She may or may not have deliberately shifted in a way that let the sheet creep down her form, revealing more skin.

The Doctor stood frozen for a moment, eyes doing all the moving; he took in Rose’s bare skin as she sat up in the bed, the sheet painfully close to revealing her curls as she shifted beneath it. She reclined slightly; bracing herself against the bed with one arm extended, tongue peeking from between her teeth, she looked at him expectantly. His hands were clutched in weak fists, his thumbs fiddling with the second knuckles of his bent index fingers; a gesture this regeneration adopted whenever he was puzzling something out. _That’s exactly what this woman is,_ he told himself, _a puzzle._ His lips parted and his tongue darted out to lick first the top and then the bottom one.

“Doctor?” Rose’s voice broke through his prattling thoughts.

“Ah,” he paused, returning his attentions to Rose Tyler’s face. “Yes. Yes of course,” he said, drawing down his pants. He wasn’t ashamed of his body, but Rose noticed he was much shyer; he was happy to slide between the sheets, where he was a bit less…exposed, and curl up to her. She turned into him and put a hand on his waist. “Will you stay a bit longer?”

“What do you mean? You pair are the ones parked in _my_ console room,” he grinned.

“Then can _we_ stay a bit longer?”

The Doctor cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead. “Of course,” he pulled away to look her in the eye, and she pressed a kiss to his lower lip.

“Doctor?”

“Mmm?” he questioned as his eyes crept over her form, his hand sliding lightly from her cheek, down her neck, across the curve of her clavicle, and between her breasts. The sensation sent a wave of heat directly to her center. She marveled at how quickly her body reacted to his touch; sometimes, it happened when he only took her hand. She ran her fingers along his flank, feeling the ridges of his ribs beneath his milky skin until she reached his waist; she gripped it and pulled him against her.

“Make love to me.”

In reply the Doctor shifted so that he was on top of her, and continued stroking her flesh. He looked up and noticed the younger Doctor’s pinstriped jacket still hanging on the bedpost. He licked his lips as he looked again at Rose, her back arching into his touch as he squeezed her breast. “I have an idea.” He stretched to grab the jacket and reached into the left breast pocket. When he wrapped his fingers around the sonic screwdriver, he grinned.

Rose looked up at him, his green eyes sparkling with mischief as he revealed his prize. He tossed the jacket to the floor, and returned all his attention to Rose. Something about the way he was looking at her told her that he wasn’t planning on putting up any cabinets. A thrill passed through her at the thought, making her muscles clench involuntarily.

The Doctor thumbed at the settings of the sonic screwdriver, reflecting for a moment that he quite missed the sleek design of his old Mark VI. He kissed his way down Rose’s body, savoring the feel of her skin against his lips, the smell of her in his nostrils. He settled himself between her legs, but rather than lying down and burying his mouth in her folds, he got to his knees, and sat back on his lower legs.

The Doctor gripped her hips and pulled her onto his lap a bit. He gazed down at her wet sex, and Rose couldn’t help the surge of modesty that came over her. The Doctor stroked her thigh with one hand. “Are you ready?” he said, checking the settings one last time.

Rose nodded at him shyly, her face flushed pink with want and maybe a bit of embarrassment at being so exposed. He grinned, flipped the sonic around in his left hand, and traced it through her curls and between her folds. The smooth glass of the tip brushed over her clit and Rose sighed and squirmed. With two fingers of the opposite hand, he spread her. He moved the sonic just a few centimeters from her slick, tender flesh and pressed the button.

“Oh!” Rose gasped, giving a start at the unexpected sensation; it reminded her of the vibrator she kept in her night table, but it was so much more than that; it wasn’t the feeling of something lumbering and cumbersome humming against her, it was like a micro-massage, made all the more tantalizing by the fact that it wasn’t actually touching her. “Mmmmm,” she hummed appreciatively, rocking her hips.

The Doctor could smell her arousal. He kept the sonic focused on her clit and moved his other hand to stroke her thigh; when she started to squirm, he steadied her with a hand on her hip. He thumbed the device a second time and Rose whimpered as the sensations became more intense. _Certainly glad I added that setting,_ he told himself. For a moment, he imagined what it would look like to watch the sonic disappear inside her, the way she’d moan as he sank the metal shaft deeply into her heat; but when he drew it away to do just that, she cried out, “Don’t stop! Oh God don’t stop!” and that was all the persuasion he needed. Instead, he slid two fingers into her.

Rose looked down her body at him, situated between her legs, her sex naked and exposed in his lap while her legs hung spread open on either side of him. As he glided his fingers into her once more, she clutched at the sheets beside her and moaned. She watched the play of his muscles beneath his skin as he thrust his fingers in and out of her. Rose rocked her hips gently to the rhythm of his firm strokes, whimpering and sighing when he flexed his fingers against her slick walls.

The sound of her voice made his cock twitch and harden; he wanted to take her, but he forced himself to wait. _Not just yet,_ he told himself, thumbing at the controls of the sonic screwdriver again. Rose sobbed at the increased intensity and gripped the sheets, her knuckles turning white. He worked his fingers inside her even faster.

As the intensity of the sonic increased, Rose sensed her impending orgasm. She bit her lip and then cried out, “Doctor! Oh! Oh! Yes. Yes. Yesyesyesyes!” and the wave of her climax struck. Her muscles tightened around his busy fingers as her pleasure washed over her. Just when she thought it would subside, he shifted the settings on the sonic again, and she felt like she was falling to earth faster than ever before, the sounds of her own cries drowned out by the blood pounding in her ears and her own trembling breath. It felt as if it would last forever, and as she writhed against the sheets and twisted the cotton in her fists, all thoughts left her.

The Doctor grew achingly hard at the sight of Rose coming undone, the sound of her calling out to him wordlessly, something animalistic and indecipherable even for the TARDIS. He felt powerful in a whole new way in that moment; this wasn’t the power he accepted with reluctance because there was no better choice, it was power that came at the pinnacle of joy. Knowing he could make her feel like this, keep her hanging in the throes of orgasm until she either begged him to stop or passed out; it aroused him to his very depths. He needed to be inside her _now._ He adjusted the sonic so her body could come down from its impossible high.

“Oh hell, Doctor; that was…incredible,” she said dreamily, out of breath. She was trembling from the exertion. Hearing her own voice was like hearing someone speak from the bottom of a well; she felt as if she’d melted right down into the mattress. Her eyes moved over the lines of his body as he readjusted himself, straightening his legs and moving over her. He propped himself up on one hand, and used the other to guide himself to her entrance.

“Rose,” he sighed, as he lowered himself against her, his cooler skin pressing to the warm lines and swells of her body. At first, he held back the words he needed to say, but as the smell of her hair and her skin surrounded him and filled his nostrils, he decided to continue. He whispered in Gallifreyan, “You make me better, even in memory,” and pushed into her warmth.

She called out to him when he entered her, and as she wrapped her arms around him, she began to move, rocking her hips with him. He leaned down and sighed against her smooth skin, suddenly desperate to touch every inch of her. His hair brushed against her, and his cool lips trailed teasingly along her skin; Rose sighed and tugged at his hair when she felt his tongue dipping into the notch at the base of her throat. His breath on her flesh gave her chills and warmth pooled low in her belly.

The Doctor nipped her neck firmly, and she squeaked in response. He sucked at her aching skin until it was thoroughly marked and Rose moaned underneath him. When he soothed the abused area, she rocked her hips against his. He moved on to a new place on her neck and repeated his ministrations. Each time he found a new spot, it spurred Rose to meet his hips with hers; she ground into him with increasing force.

Rose could feel his emotions spilling into his kiss and read them in the lines of his body; the Doctor lavishing her neck was the second incarnation she’d made love to and the third she’d fallen in love with; while she could certainly compare his little traits here and there, there was no choosing one incarnation over the other. He was undeniably the same man, and when she looked into his eyes—whether they were blue or brown or green—she saw _him._ That same ethereal _something_ that she felt when he entered her mind was the same behind his eyes; written in every line of his face no matter what the set of his cheekbones, the length and breadth of his nose, or the strength of his chin or jaw. Those things were just window dressing.

“Rose?” he sighed against her neck.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“I need you.”

“I’m here.”

“I _need_ you,” he said again, this time skating his fingers down along her skin, and back up again.

“I’m here,” she repeated, raising her legs higher on his hips to allow him in deeper. Her breath was shaky against his neck as he settled firmly into her; he reached between them, slipping his thumb between her folds and stroking her aching clit.

The Doctor murmured to her in Gallifreyan as he stroked her delicate flesh, “I need you. I want you. I love you,” he sighed, using the Infinite Continuous tense as he rubbed circles into her clit. He wished he could make her understand the depth of those words; they stretched to the birth of the universes and the end of Time as he saw it.

All those feelings he’d locked away after Canary Wharf, all the heartache he’d stuffed down into the pit of himself after he’d left her with his metacrisis in Pete’s World; it came roiling to the surface. The force of it all was unexpected and terrifying, and it drove him into a frenzy; kissing, nipping and clutching at Rose as if she were the last star in a dying universe, thrusting into her firmly.

Rose held him and stroked his shoulders as he whispered to her, the emotion behind the words the only thing she could hope to comprehend; something in those words broke him, and his soft and tentative caresses turned aggressive. It made her heart ache for him, but at the same time caused her muscles to clench involuntarily around him; his cock moved inside her _just so_ and her breath caught. Rose made a very undignified sound into the crook of his neck and nipped his clavicle.

Her voice made his hearts swell and his pulse quicken. “Rose,” he sighed. He covered her mouth with his and kissed her languidly. Rose curled her arms under his and clutched his shoulder blades, pulling his chest to hers; his flesh was cool against her flushed breasts, but it still sent waves of heat through her. His hair was draped in her face and danced across her closed eyelids. It smelled of something distinct and indefinable; it tickled her closed eyelids as his lips moved against hers. She rocked her hips to meet his thrusts, and savored the feel of him inside her; it was coming home and letting go all at once. Then _oh._ Suddenly the tension that had been building within her finally broke, and together, they came, clutching one another and trembling.

When he finally (and reluctantly) rolled off her, she snuggled into his side, resting her head against his chest. She softly traced a fingertip over the flesh just in front of her face, listening to the sound of his hearts beating. They shared a long moment of comfortable silence as he stroked her shoulder with his fingertips.

Rose sighed, and her expression grew serious. “I know I’m gone…for you. I dunno what happened and I know you can’t tell me.” He looked at her solemnly, but said nothing. “I’m sorry if it was…if I…for…whatever part I had in it,” she said simply, and he knew that she meant if she left him, broke her promise. “I hope you know that I’d always…I mean, it doesn’t matter what face you have,” she looked up at him, touching his cheek; her fingertips brushing his cheekbone, her thumb tracing down the curve of his jaw to his chin. The touch was so tender that he couldn’t help but lean into it, his eyes fluttering closed against the strained feeling in his chest. Against her better judgment, she told him how she felt, “I’ve fancied you since the moment we met, Doctor. I love you; have done since Christmas 1869. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, and it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been away; I’ll always want to see you,” she leaned up and kissed him. “I love you,” she breathed against his lips.

Rose wondered if her confession would damage causality. She felt a bit guilty that she was revealing this for the first time, not to her Doctor, but this one—same man or not; it felt a bit like betrayal. But it really needed saying, and this older him, who looked at her with such wonder and reverence; it was easier to tell him. He’d leave the two of them soon, and she and his younger self would bugger on as they had been; dancing around the question of exactly what they were—if ‘she’ and ‘him’ were an ‘us’. It certainly felt that way, at least for her; she was nearly certain he felt the same, but she pined for the reassurance of his words. At least in offering these words to his older self, the Doctor would have them to hold onto in her absence, even if she never managed to say them to his younger self.

When he opened his eyes, they were wet with unshed tears, “Oh Rose, I—” his mouth formed the beginnings of the word _love,_ and she pressed her fingers to his lips. _Sod the bloody timelines_ , he wanted to speak the words so badly, to finally say what he’d never gotten the chance to. Never _taken_ the chance to. Anger flared at himself and projected onto his counterpart, tinkering in the console room.

She wanted to hear it so badly it ached down to her marrow, but instead she said, “I know; but it’s not the time, is it?”

“No. No, I suppose it isn’t,” he clenched his jaw a moment and swallowed thickly before hugging her to himself.


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _When he opened his eyes, they were wet with unshed tears, “Oh Rose, I—” his mouth formed the beginnings of the word love, and she pressed her fingers to his lips. Sod the bloody timelines, he wanted to speak the words so badly, to finally say what he’d never gotten the chance to._
> 
> _She wanted to hear it so badly it ached down to her marrow, but instead she said, “I know; but it’s not the time, is it?”_
> 
> _“No. No, I suppose it isn’t,” he clenched his jaw a moment and swallowed thickly before hugging her to himself._

That night, the three of them shared a bed again. Her Doctor to her right, the older Doctor to her left. The younger Time Lord was mouthing her neck and dragging his teeth across her clavicle as the older Doctor moved closer. Her warmth was a stark contrast against his cooler skin. She leaned in close and kissed his neck, her lips moving up the column until she reached his ear. She pulled it into her mouth and sucked, eliciting a small growl. She exhaled a shaking breath into his ear, and the growl swelled. “Rose,” he whispered, his voice faltering as her hand crept lower and lower down his torso, “Wait,” he gently covered her hand with his to halt her progress. She released his earlobe and pulled back to look at him.

“What’s the matter, Doctor?” she said softly.

“I just—can we—can I,” he paused, looking down at his hand over hers, struggling for several moments before continuing, “Watch you?” His eyes darted from her, to his younger self and back again, “First?” he added as an afterthought.

She drew her hand away from his stomach and instead cupped his cheek; he turned into the touch. There was something desperate and haunted in his eyes that made her bones ache, and she couldn’t resist the urge to kiss it away. She felt her Doctor take her nipple into his mouth, and whimpered at the feel of his deft tongue swirling over it as he cradled her breast in his hand.

The older Doctor sighed as Rose’s lips met his. She was so warm, and soft, and as her tongue skated across his bottom lip, suddenly he wasn’t so sure of his request. In the instant before the words left his mouth, he’d thought that seeing Rose and his younger self together would remind him of the man he was; what they’d had together before the Cybermen, Daleks, and Torchwood had bungled it. _Until I’d bungled it,_ he thought bitterly, his anger directed at himself. It flared in his belly like fire, and he threaded his fingers through Rose’s hair and pulled her mouth more firmly to his, parting his lips and plunging his tongue into the wet curves of her mouth.

Aroused further by his sudden flare of passion, Rose pressed her body to him as he claimed her lips hungrily, his desperation only a few shades lighter than that of a drowning man clinging to a life preserver. His fervor put just enough fear in her to make the moment exhilarating. She moaned against his lips and felt a twinge low in her belly. Her hand skittered clumsily from his cheek and down his torso, raking her fingernails lightly over his flesh before slipping her hand beneath the cotton sheet and gripping his firm length.

The younger Doctor watched as Rose’s hand slipped beneath the sheet, and at the same time moved to mold himself to her back. He gripped her hip and pulled her toward him as he pressed his half-hard length against her bum. The feel of her soft skin rubbing against his bare flesh made his cock twitch. The heat pooled in his groin and he suddenly had a very urgent need to be inside of Rose. _Now_. He reached around and ruffled her curls with his fingertips, and she quickly opened for him. As he teased her folds, she raised one leg and draped it over his. He pressed his mouth to her neck, and she whimpered against the lips of the older Doctor.

The older Time Lord broke the kiss, and looked down as he drew the sheet off of them; he watched as the fingers of his younger self slipped between Rose’s folds and two of them found their way into her. The older Time Lord gently removed Rose’s hand from his length, and turned onto his side, propping his head on his hand as he watched his younger self’s movements with rapt attention.

“Doctor,” she sighed before giving a groan. The older Time Lord was being bombarded by memories; his head was swimming as he watched his younger self ease Rose onto her back. The younger Doctor’s lips caressed Rose’s naked flesh; he withdrew his fingers and began to cover her body with his own, nipping at her breasts, her stomach, and her hips, allowing his hair to tickle her flesh. The Doctor curled his arms under her thighs, embraced them as he pulled her sex closer to his eager mouth; he reached down once again with his fingers and spread her. “Mmmmm,” she hummed. It was somewhere between a growl and a moan of need and approval. He slowly lapped from the bottom of her entrance to the top of her clit, before reversing course and swirling around it. Rose arched her hips toward his lips and moaned.

He wrote his name in Gallifreyan script against her clit before plunging his tongue inside her. He twisted and curled it against her walls, wishing he could reach further. The taste and smell of her was nearly overwhelming, her _need_ flooding his system. She was sighing and keening and groaning under his ministrations, and her body was screaming out to him with every chemical it had. He groaned against her soft flesh and then drew his tongue up and around her clit again.

As the Doctor flicked his tongue against her sensitive flesh, she sighed. He savored her, rolled his tongue inside and across her flesh until she thought she might break. At last, he returned his attentions once more on her clit, wrapping his lips around it, and sucking gently. “Unnnngh, Doctor!” she groaned, “Fffuck.” Her hands opened and closed ineffectually against the sheets several times before she reached down to plunge her fingers into his hair. She tugged at it, scratched gently at his scalp and rocked her hips against his mouth. He hummed his approval against her wet flesh, and the vibrations only encouraged her further.

The older Time Lord let his eyes fall closed as the memories poured in, and began to trace his fingers lazily along his length. The light sensation caused more moisture to collect at the tip, and he willed an abundance of it to well up and out of him. He gathered it into his palm and took himself more firmly in hand, stroking slowly at first; he opened his eyes to watch the roll of Rose’s hips, and he matched the motion. As she sped up, he followed, struggling to suppress a groan.

He found himself watching the lips of his younger self against Rose’s flesh, and wondered for a moment what they would feel like wrapped around his length. He felt a rush of pleasure flow through him in that moment; that dirty, guilty pleasure one gets when they know they’re breaking the rules…and if traveling through time to witness or facilitate sexual encounters with your past or future self and _another individual_ was frowned upon by the Time Lord council, then actually engaging in those acts yourself _with yourself_ was downright abhorrent. Still, the older Doctor flirted with the idea as he took in the sight before him, stroking himself.

Rose was humming and groaning with pleasure under her Doctor’s attentions, and at last she felt the tension break, and she came. The Doctor lapped at her, slowly soothing her taut muscles, delving his tongue into her once more, twice more to sample her flavor.

The sounds of Rose’s orgasm had made the older Time Lord feel bold; he sat up a bit, and he reached for his younger self, curling his hand around the back of his neck, slowly bringing their mouths together. He wanted to feel those lips against his own and taste Rose on them. After the initial kiss; soft and telling, with the barest hint of tongue, the older Doctor kissed at the other Doctor’s chin, allowing his lips to collect Rose’s moisture, his tongue to dart out and sample it from the flesh of his younger self. The combination was exquisite, and he couldn’t help but groan.

Rose watched the scene unfolding above her with rapt attention. _Oh,_ she thought as she caught peeks and hints of the older Time Lord’s tongue darting out to taste the flesh of the younger—to taste _her_. She bit her lip to calm herself, and try to stifle the noise in her throat, but it stubbornly slid past her lips and into the air between them. Both men turned to her, and their faces broke into wide grins.

Rose looked utterly gobsmacked. A few kisses between the two of them had turned her brain to mush; her arousal was written all over her face, and the younger Time Lord couldn’t help but smile smugly, “She likes it,” he said, looking at his other self. He leaned in to cup the back of the older Doctor’s head and pull him in for a snog. He slid his tongue between his lips and tasted the mouth of the man he would someday become, and Rose whimpered.

The younger Doctor nipped at the lower lip of the other Doctor, tongue sliding into his mouth to explore the curves, rolling against his tongue. The older Time Lord took the initiative then, and chased the younger man’s tongue into his own mouth, growling low in his throat.

Rose squeezed her thighs together and sighed as both of the Doctors’ breathing grew uneven, and when they broke apart, the older Time Lord reached to stroke her sex. He looked at his younger self and smirked, each giving the other a small nod. The older Doctor shifted closer and curled his lips around her clit.

The younger Doctor watched Rose as she watched his older self lavish her sex. He bit his lip in consideration, before pressing his lips into the creamy skin of her thigh. He brought her leg over his shoulder, making more room for himself as he too began to lap at her slick and delicate flesh.

Rose made a sound approximating, “Guh,” and the older Doctor mirrored the younger, placing Rose’s leg over his shoulder. He and his counterpart worked in tandem to please their pink and yellow human, not bashful when their own lips and tongues met, or when their cheeks brushed together. The older Doctor quite liked the feel of the other Time Lord’s sideburn as it brushed his cheek; he sighed at the sensation.

Rose looked down at the sight before her; she could barely focus the way her thoughts were racing and her brain was swimming. What the two Doctors were doing to her was incredible, but the things they were doing to each other reduced her to a mewling puddle of flesh. One Doctor would massage circles into her clit, and the other would plunge into her entrance, their faces pressed cheek to cheek, and then they would trade positions, or share her clit. Watching their tongues move together against her and each other made her undeniably wet, and they both knew it. The older Time Lord broke away to kiss the neck of his younger self, who hummed against Rose’s flesh. He worked his way up to his ear, and tipping his head toward Rose, he whispered, “Make love to her,” before slowly extricating himself. The younger man nodded and turned toward Rose, crawling up her body, allowing his smooth, cool skin to move against hers as he settled himself between her legs.

Rose bit her lip as her Doctor ran his tongue up the center of the valley between her breasts in a wet line, stopping when he reached her collar bone to give it a nip. He sucked at her thin excited flesh until she whimpered, and then laved the angry red mark in swirling patterns with his tongue. She couldn’t take his teasing, and sunk her fingers into his hair and pulled his lips to hers. With the movement, she felt the tip of his erection brush against her folds, and she shifted, rolled her hips against him, eager to feel his tender flesh against hers.

The Doctor moaned into her mouth at the feel of her heat against him. It was overwhelming, and he needed more; more heat, more _wet,_ more _Rose_. He ran his fingertips along the outer swell of her breast, across her ribs, and finally between them, where he took himself in hand and guided himself to her entrance. He pushed his hips forward and sank into her. He paused for a moment, feeling her hips push against his, encouraging him further, but still he waited. He moved his mouth to her neck; lips and teeth and tongue against her pulse point before capturing the lobe of her ear. “Doctor,” Rose whimpered, “I need you. I need you _now.”_ He grinned against her flesh, and withdrew; it took all of his will power not to just push forward. He repeated his shallow thrusts several times, until Rose uttered in a half-growl, half-cry, “Please Doctor, just fuck me. Fuck me _now.”_

The sound of that particular expletive made his control unravel, and he surged forward, a hiss of pleasure in Rose’s ear as he sank fully into her. The Doctor beside them sighed, and as she turned her head to look at him, her Doctor began to lavish her neck with kisses. He thrust slowly and firmly into her, and she rolled her hips in time to his rhythm. She bit her lip as she watched the older Time Lord; he was on his back, propped up on a pillow, head turned and green eyes peering at them, stroking himself firmly. The sight of him—lean and smooth, milky-white skin pulled taut over his muscles, his lush, dark-brown hair hanging partially in his face, the ripple of his bicep and forearm as he pumped his erection—made her muscles clench . Her eyes returned to his face, savoring the square of his jaw and the fullness of his lips; their eyes met.

The older Doctor was aware of Rose’s eyes on him; her gaze sent a hot wave of pleasure across his flesh and made his hearts beat just a bit faster. His eyes were fixed on the places where her skin came into contact with the other Doctor’s, his ears trained on the wet sounds he heard between them. His eyes wandered up until they found Rose’s, and he couldn’t help but look at her with wonder; amazed that he had found her, amazed that she had stayed with him—loved him—despite the walls he’d built around himself, despite his madness. It was only a second, and then the younger Doctor reclaimed her lips again as he increased his pace.

The Doctor felt the silky skin of Rose’s inner thighs as her legs squeezed his hips; her hands slipped from his hair, and trailed feather-lightly down his back to grip his bum. She squeezed him hard and pulled him to her as she rocked her hips into him. He propped himself up on his hands so he could take in the sight of her breasts, and watch her writhe beneath him. He used this new leverage to grind his pelvic bone against her clit and he rotated his hips.

Rose whimpered and keened beneath him, and he groaned as he watched her tongue peek from between her lips. His hips surged forward and Rose let out a cry of pleasure and reflexively brought her arms to grip his shoulders; her nails digging into his flesh. The Doctor hissed with pain, and thrust harder into her, causing her to dig her nails in again. He set up a rhythm he knew Rose enjoyed, fast and firm and savored the feel of her body around him, his skin pressing to hers.

The older Doctor groaned and gripped himself tighter, working his shaft to match the movements of his younger self, allowing himself to sink into the memories; the fingers of his free hand gripped ineffectually at the sheets for a moment before he felt Rose’s soft fingertips over his knuckles. She slipped her fingers between his and gripped his hand, pulling it toward her face. She pressed her warm lips into his palm before slipping his hand along her cheek and placing his fingertips at her temples. She pressed her hand to the back of his for a moment to encourage him. Once she was sure he wouldn’t pull away, she released her hold.

His fingertips nearly trembled at Rose’s temple; it has been so long since he’d been in her mind and he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to rein in his emotions once he did. He steeled himself and carefully reached out to her mentally. She gasped with the sensation before giving a small groan of pleasure, and as their minds became entwined, the Doctor could feel her love and lust crackling all around him. He moved his mind against hers, fiddled with a few chemical receptors and… “OH FUCK!” Rose cried out bucking hard against his younger self, curling one hand around the back of his neck, her fingers slipping into the hair at his nape; her other hand covered the hand of the older Time Lord and clutched at him, pressing his palm into her face. “More….” she breathed; it was a plea and a question, and he moved closer to the couple before shifting the chemicals around her brain again.

To her own ears, the sounds that escaped from Rose’s throat sounded more like an animal than a person. The feel of the Doctor in her mind was intimate and powerful; his presence, comforting. The motions he made against the edges of her mind, and the way his consciousness slid into hers…it was erotic and exquisite. She reached for him, curling her fingers around his as he gripped himself, and as she started to work his own hand up and down his length, he felt his control slipping away. She slipped her fingers between his to savor the feel of his length; he pushed into her mind again, and she fell apart beneath his younger self. The older Time Lord gasped as Rose’s waves of pleasure rippled and shuddered across their connection; suddenly, he felt her orgasm as if it was his own, felt the weight of his younger self on top of him, what his own hand felt like for her, pressed to her cheek, his fingertips twitching at her temples. He could even feel the way his hard length felt in her hand. _Oh that’s brilliant,_ he thought, just before his conscious mind frayed and he stumbled into his own orgasm, spilling over Rose’s hand and onto his own stomach. “Rose,” he whimpered. She relinquished her hold on him, and dropped her hand to the sheet between them, and the older Doctor’s hand fell away from her temple.

With her clean hand, Rose reached up to cup her Doctor’s cheek. “Touch me, Doctor,” she sighed. He marveled at the love in her eyes, and slowly brought his fingers to her temple. When the connection was made, she sent him a thought, < _You are gorgeous when you come. > _The Doctor’s hearts fluttered at that, and he watched as she brought her sticky fingers to her mouth and licked the essence of his older self from them one by one. _< You taste…> _she trailed off, and instead of completing the sentence, hummed her approval. < _Come for me, Doctor, > _she pleaded seductively. He bent to capture her mouth in a kiss, the taste of the other him and Rose mingled and formed something divine. He growled against her lips and moved further into her mind and body.

Rose cried out at the sensation of her Doctor within her and all around her. When he entered her mind like this, it was like waking up under a nice warm duvet after a good lie-in. When he lowered himself against her to press his lips to hers, the feel of the freckled skin of his chest against her breasts was electric; she felt warmth radiating outward from her nipples and rippling across her whole body. She writhed beneath him and gripped at his waist. She could feel in his mind and his body that he was nearly ready; the Doctor brought himself to the very edge of pleasure and waited there before reaching out a mental hand to pluck at her pleasure centers. As they tumbled together over the precipice, they called out to each other in their minds.

Her Doctor’s weight was comforting against her body. He leaned close to tickle her face with his fringe, and he whispered into her mind, < _How long are you going to stay with me? >_

_< Forever,> _she replied. This exchange is one they’d shared many times, and the look in his eyes, the way his mind shivered and hummed against hers at her response, she knew how he really felt. Rose always wanted to say so much more, but the only time she could bring _those_ three words out was in the throes of passion…she often wondered if he knew how sincere she was in those moments. The Doctor slowly withdrew from her mind and body, kissing her again, nibbling at her lower lip one more time.

“You two,” the older Time Lord spoke a bit breathlessly, “are brilliant.” He watched his younger self roll to the opposite side of Rose. Now that the ardor among them had settled, the elder Time Lord felt a bit awkward and more than a bit sticky. “I think I’ll have a shower,” he said after a moment, getting to his feet and turning quickly toward the adjoining en suite.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Rose was asleep to the Doctor’s right, and his older self was to his left, turned toward him, propping himself on his elbow. The bed sheet was draped across the three of them, though Rose was monopolizing most of it. The younger Time Lord was lying on his back, one hand tucked under his head, while the other hand gesticulated in front of him as he described a distant memory to his older self. Again, they spoke in Gallifreyan, and the Doctor’s hearts warmed every time his older self responded. Conversing with his other self gave him the illusion of a shared culture and history, even though that place in his mind that was once burgeoning with the presence of his people stood dark and empty in his consciousness.

Each “Oh yes, and do you remember when…” uttered by his older self only served to warm his heart and set him at ease. The camaraderie turned into something else; something tender. The younger Time Lord cupped the cheek of the other, leaned in—slowly, in case he wanted to pull away—and kissed him on the mouth. The older Doctor wriggled awkwardly at first; free arm flitting about and unsure of whether it wanted to push his younger self away, or pull him closer. After a moment, he decided to do neither; he splayed his hand across the ribs of the younger man and shifted toward him as he deepened the kiss.

The older Doctor parted his lips and sought entrance into the mouth of his younger self as he felt the Time Lord’s hand slip from his cheek to clutch at the hair at the back of his head. The older man was pressed against him, the sheet still bunched between them; it did little to disguise the heat of the partial erection pressing into the hip of the younger Doctor.

It was long-past memories of this moment; recalling the other man’s confusion and desire as his own that spurred him on. The older Time Lord caressed the chest of his younger self, ghosting a fingertip across his nipple before traversing the round of his shoulder and squeezing his bicep. He at last drew him closer, pressing his hips slightly against his younger self.

The younger Doctor moaned softly into his mouth and turned into his embrace. He gasped as the sheet slipped aside and the heat of their groins connected and amplified. He pulled the other Time Lord to himself and tried to lose himself in the feel of their lengths pressing and moving together; the younger Doctor could feel himself getting hard against the curves and planes of his older self, and the sensation caused him to flush, the pink coloration starting in his freckled cheeks and blossoming down his neck and across his chest.

The older Time Lord could hear the thoughts of his counterpart echoing to him in the form of memory, _Yes. More. So wrong. So brilliant. I can’t. I want. Oh. Lips. Yes. So warm._ The older Doctor reached between them and encircled the length of his younger self, using the moisture they’d created to comfortably stroke him.

The feel of the man’s hand on his cock caused him to break the kiss with a gasp. His older self gently nudged and nuzzled at his jaw, urging him to turn his head; now there were lips on his neck and his thoughts were racing. He carefully rolled them over, so that the older Doctor was on his back, his hand still working against his length. The younger Doctor leaned in to nip at the Time Lord’s shoulder as the man continued to mouth his neck. He sighed and pressed his hips forward against his other self. The Doctor felt the fingers of his older self slide gently along his skin, tracing circles into the flesh that covered his ribs. His arms wobbled a bit as the pleasure spreading through him threatened to sap his strength; he kissed along the shoulder of his older self, detouring a moment to nip at his collarbone.

The older Time Lord bit back a groan, and shifted his grip. He now held himself and the younger Doctor in his hand; it was a precarious grasp with his hand so full, but he was able to press them together, and stroke them as one. The man above him suddenly bucked his hips, the friction created in his hand and against his length caused the older Doctor to whimper. He ran the fingers of his free hand up the flank of his younger self; the two men pulled back to look at each other before the younger Time Lord claimed his lips again. His breath was shaky, and his mind was racing through its litany: _This is wrong. His hand! What am I doing? Oh yes. I should stop. We shouldn’t._ _I want this. I want this I want this I want this…_

The older Doctor caressed the flesh of the man above him, across his flank, up his chest, along his clavicle, up the column of his neck, and along his jaw. He sighed as his fingers met the temple of his younger self, and began to ease into his mind.

The younger Doctor grabbed his hand and pulled it away, both of them hissing in pain as the beginning threads of their connection snapped. He pulled back, and the other whimpered at the loss of his body against his. “Why did you do that?” he said in a low voice, minding Rose’s sleeping form beside them. He extricated himself from the sheets and the bed.

“I thought we were…you know,” he seemed thoroughly embarrassed, sitting up in the bed, gathering the sheets in his lap to cover his erection. “I thought you wanted—”

“I can’t. With Rose, _for_ Rose, it’s one thing,” he says, struggling to step into his trousers, too frantic to search out his pants among the detritus, “but, but, you’re… _me!”_ he hissed, negotiating his erection into the fabric and working the zip and button.

“ _You’re_ the one who kissed _me_ ,” the older Doctor says, raking a hand through his hair.

“I know,” the other said, stooping to grab his shirt, “I just, I can’t, I need, I—” he struggled, straightening his shirtsleeves.

“I understand,” the older Time Lord said, “I’m you, remember?” he smiled mirthlessly.

“Exactly! You’re me. We can’t…there are _laws._ ”

“There _were_ laws,” he elder Doctor corrected.

“There _are_ laws against this, or—at the very least—societal norms, and—”

“What society?” the older Doctor asked. “Who do we have to answer to? Who are we going to tell?” he kept his voice low as he continued, “You can’t hide behind the societal norms of our dead race when it suits you. If the Time Lords were still around, they’d regenerate you for carrying on with Rose like you—we—do, and you know it.”

The younger Doctor purses his lips; his nostrils flare, but he doesn’t acknowledge the questions of the other man. He stares at him with all the intensity of the Oncoming Storm. “I’m going to the control room. You stay with Rose. She likes waking up next to…” he waves his hand in annoyance of the semantics and hurries out of the room.

The older Time Lord sits there and waits for the memories to finish crystallizing in his mind, and he understands perfectly. The reasons of his younger self have less to do with the rules of dusty old Senators, and more to do with himself. His younger self’s self-loathing was still winning out over his loneliness; he resented the older Time Lord for standing before him as physical evidence that Rose’s forever could never be _their_ forever. The older Time Lord suddenly remembered just how deluded he’d allowed himself to become in the face of his attachment to Rose, how he’d begun to let himself believe that this thing between them would never end. He looked down at his fading erection and felt ashamed for reasons he didn’t understand. He sighed and willed his hormone-levels back to normal, relaxing his…anatomy…before curling himself into Rose’s back. He’d always been self-loathing, and figured that if either of them would be the one to spurn the advances of the other, it would be _him,_ rejecting his younger self; on the grounds that he was a tosser and had been careless at Canary Wharf. Or that he was a fucking prat for not saying goodbye that last time. He tucked an arm around Rose and held her as tight as he dared without waking her, and let her level breathing soothe him.


	5. Part 5

After extricating himself from the peculiar situation he’d found himself in the night before, the Doctor felt relieved; but after returning to the console room, he’d just felt an aching sense of loss. He ruffled his hair and smoothed the imaginary wrinkles from the front of his pinstriped trousers as he willed his erection away. He was lonely to the very depths of himself, but having his older self aboard the TARDIS left him conflicted. He was with another Time Lord, yet still alone, and the older Doctor’s presence only served as a reminder that one day Rose would be gone and he would be left alone again. It wasn’t as if the thought had never crossed his mind; in fact, it had paraded itself about at the forefront of his consciousness for months before he’d finally shoved it aside. His last self had been much better at playing reserved than he could ever hope to, that was a certainty.

The first time had been in a fit of passion; they’d just returned to the TARDIS after the coronation, and finally the facade of contentment he’d donned for the neighborhood party shattered. Seeing Rose without her face had cut him to the quick, and he chose to ignore her mortality. He had claimed her mouth; in short order, had lifted her pink skirt and taken her hard and fast on the console, and she had let him. His memory echoed with the sounds of her crying out his name; her pleas of _“Yes!”_ and _“More!”_ bouncing off the walls of the control room, followed by the silence that overtook them both when he’d realized what he’d done. When her tears came, he’d thought he’d hurt her; instead, she’d been afraid that he would send her away.

He shook his head to clear away the memories and then set to work tinkering beneath the console.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The next morning, Rose awoke lying on her back; the older Time Lord’s hand resting delicately on her bare stomach, his other hand propping up his head, leaning on his elbow so he could watch her. She stretched a little and wiggled her toes before turning on her side to face him. “Some girls might think it’s creepy to think their bloke is watching them while they sleep,” she smiled.

“But not you,” he grinned back.

“You get a bit of a pass,” she gave him a cheeky grin, and he leaned in to kiss it away.

“It isn’t my fault you spend so much of your life sleeping,” he teased.

“Shut up,” she replied, pulling him in by the shoulder for another kiss, sighing as her tongue slid over his.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

 

Rose found her Doctor under the console in the morning when she emerged from the corridor in naught but a dressing gown. He turned to see her feet beside him, toes curling against the grating. “I’m gonna make breakfast for the three o’ us; eggs and sausage with toast. You want some?”

“Sure,” he said, shifting to get a look at her, “I’m just about done here, then I will be in to help you with the tea,” he smiled.

“Alright,” she turned and headed toward the galley. “I’ll see you in a mo’,” she called over her shoulder. He finished up the last of the wiring and slid out from beneath the console. Now that Rose was up, he didn’t have to hide from his own thoughts anymore and he wanted to steal a few moments with her before he had to start hiding from his other self.

He shoved last night’s events to the back of his mind, trying not to think of the feel of warm lips on his, the older man’s hand curled around his length, or the way they’d moved together… _no_. He was most certainly _not_ thinking about that.

“Can I help?” he asked Rose sweetly, curling his hands around her hips and kissing her neck.

“Sure you can, y’big flirt,” she said lightly, shrugging him off gently. “Kettle’s over there,” she tilted her head toward the stove. As he moved to fill the kettle and put it on the burner, she asked, “So how was your night then? You have that look about you; that you’ve been tinkerin’ for hours.”

Rose had become quite adept at recognizing when he had something weighing on his mind, “I was,” he confirmed.

“It’s not me, is it? I mean, these last few days have been… _strange,_ ” she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “But we’re okay, yeah?” she asked.

“Of course we’re okay.”

Rose furrowed her brows, the tone of his voice not entirely convincing, she took a deep breath, “It’s not…you know I don’t, I mean,” she spluttered.

“What?” he arched an eyebrow.

“If it’s about last night,” she sighed, not quite looking him in the eye, “If you’re worried I’m goin’ to think you’re...” she hesitated before finally forcing the word out, “ _gay_ , or whatever, I don’t.” She looked at him a moment, and he seemed almost shocked, “I mean, I know I’m just a twenty-first century girl, an’ sometimes you think I don’t understand some things—and maybe I don’t—,” her eyes met his at last, “but _this_ , this I do.”

“Rose, I…” he paused, “I appreciate all of this,” he said, planting his hands on her waist, “your astute understanding of my sexuality, especially.” He squeezed her hips gently and then let go, “But it’s a bit more complicated even than that.”

“Because he’s you?” she asked, taking a small step back. Rose could always cut right to the heart of the matter. His hesitation was all the answer she needed. “I can imagine it’s a bit weird,” she took his hand, “Lookin’ and touchin’ are two different things, yeah?”

He pursed his lips, and then looked into her eyes; the warmth and tenderness in her made him smile, “Yeah, it is a bit,” he swallowed, “ _difficult_ to process.”

She stood up on her toes and leaned in to kiss him, and pulled back so that he could see her winning smile, “Well, I thought the two of you were gorgeous,” she touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth and raised an eyebrow. He bit his lip to stifle a smile, thinking of the sounds she’d made when he’d kissed his older self, heat pooling in his groin as he remembered the feel of the other man’s lips against his, and the taste of Rose shared between them, “And turnabout’s fair play, and all that?”

The Doctor’s eyebrows attempted to escape into his hairline, his mouth opening and closing several times, but before he could respond, the kettle began to wail. He seemed nearly relieved, and just like that, the moment to talk was over. As Rose set to work making the eggs and sausage, she cast a sideways look at him as he prepared their tea; she wondered if he understood what she was getting at, or if she’d only bungled things.

“Good morning!” the older Time Lord said cheerily as he entered the galley. The Doctor cradled his mug and nodded at his counterpart, and Rose turned to smile.

“Mornin’!” Rose said, “I’m makin’ eggs and sausage; the kettle’s just come off, so there’s tea if you’d like.”

“Sounds wonderful,” he said, crossing the floor to where they stood. The younger Time Lord stepped aside to allow him access to the tea, and he set to work preparing it how he liked. He leaned against the counter and took a drink, making a face when he burned his mouth, spitting the tea back into the mug as discreetly as possible. The younger Time Lord smirked and couldn’t decide whether to be amused or embarrassed for himself.

He straightened his bow tie and set the mug on the counter before taking some plates out of the cabinet for their breakfast. He studied the profile of his younger self (who was very pointedly not looking at him), searching his own memories for clues as to what the lean, bespectacled man was thinking. The older Time Lord held the plates as Rose served up the eggs and sausage, handing the first to his younger self, placing the second on the countertop for himself, and after Rose filled the third plate, he held it out to her with a smile.

In short order, the three of them were seated around the table, the two Time Lords opposite each other, and Rose to the left of her Doctor and the right of the other. “Another delicious breakfast, Rose,” the younger Doctor complimented.

“Yes, these bangers were spot-on,” the older added.

She smiled, “Thanks.”

The silence between them was a bit stiff, but still companionable. It was difficult for the older Time Lord; foreknowledge was a dangerous thing, and there was only so much he could reveal about himself and the life he’d lived since he’d been her Doctor. He sifted through his new-old memories to try to understand the man sitting across from him; he was unsure of what to say, but just then he knew that both of them were thinking about what had happened between them the night before. His younger self was withdrawing further behind a thick veil of Time Lord rules of conduct and outmoded tradition to which he selectively adhered. It frustrated the older Doctor, because it was that very behavior that had led him to waste so much time with Rose and leave so many things left unsaid that really, _really_ needed saying. Part of him hated him for that, but the older Time Lord wanted acceptance in equal measure; he could never hope for forgiveness, especially not from himself—as if it would count anyway—but if he could just be accepted by his counterpart as he’d been accepted by Rose, maybe he could have some momentary peace.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

After breakfast, she set her fork down and asked, “Do you two mind doin’ the washin’ up? I really need to have a shower.”

“We’ve got it all under control,” the older Doctor said.

“Do you need any help?” her Doctor asked playfully.

“I need to get _clean_ in the shower, so no; this one’s all me,” she planted a kiss on his cheek before breezing out of the galley.

The two Time Lords looked at each other across the table, still silent, sipping their tea. “I see you take it with more sugar now,” the younger one commented.

“Yeah; got a bit of a sweet tooth this time around,” the older man replied vaguely.

The younger Doctor sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m sorry,” he tugged at his ear, “I’m sorry for being a right prat last night, and I…it wasn’t fair to you.”

“Are you saying I was right?” the older Doctor asked, sipping his tea and struggling to keep the smugness in his voice from creeping onto his face.

The Doctor considered, and rubbed at the hair on the back of his head, “Wellll, I can just say that maybe, _perhaps_ , you weren’t _wrong_.”

“That’s good enough for me,” he said, as the memories started filtering in. He furrowed his brows and spoke, “I’m sorry, too,” he said at last, “I’m sorry that I make you see something you don’t want to.”

The younger Doctor leaned back in his chair, “Oh, well that’s not your fault now, is it? We came to you.”

“All the same, I _am_ sorry.”

The Time Lord in pinstripes nodded slightly, “Can’t last forever, can it?”

“Things seldom do, you know; it’s better to enjoy them—her—while you can,” he sipped his tea again, “You know how she feels about you,” he stated with certainty born from memories stretching all the way back to blue eyes and jumpers.

“Yeah. That’s what makes it so hard,” he replied, staring down into his mug.

“You’re thinking about Sarah Jane, aren’t you?” he paused, “Of course you are.”

“I couldn’t bear to watch her grow old, so instead I left her, and she did it alone.”

“Yes, but did you feel for her what you feel for Rose?” the older Doctor asked, already knowing the answer. It wasn’t about the validity or strength of feelings. It was about the man he was many faces ago, and the man the Time War had made him. It was the timing, and there was really no…

“That’s really not a fair comparison,” the younger Time Lord glowered as he leaned forward and swirled the contents of his nearly-empty mug, “At any rate, I’d like to think I’ve gotten wiser and less self-centered in my old age,” he said, “but after everything…” he trailed off.

“You mean after _Gallifrey_ ,” the older Doctor said.

The younger Doctor sighed and removed his glasses, setting them on the table. He took a swig from his mug and grimaced at the tea that had gone cold. He set it down more firmly than necessary and replied, “Yes, after the destruction of Gallifrey,” he said firmly, “I’m not sure I have it in me to lose one more thing—person—that I…” again, the word died in his throat.

“Yes. Well,” his older self said when he realized his counterpart wasn’t going to finish the thought out loud, “The thing is, it’s not a matter of what you have in you; it’s a matter of what she deserves.”

“What she deserves,” the younger Time Lord asserted, his eyes shining with unshed tears, “is a fantastic life; one she can share with a man who can give her everything: a proper home, with doors and carpets; children of their own; and a forever they can share. I can’t be that man.”

“That’s where you’re wrong; what she deserves is a choice; something we never gave Sarah Jane.”

“But what if—”

“The ‘what if’ doesn’t matter,” the older Doctor insisted. “What matters is what you’re willing to give up for her happiness.”

“I’d give up my own happiness for her. I’d give _her_ up. It’s what I have to do; I’m the Last of the Time Lords and I have a duty to the universe. I don’t want this responsibility, but there’s no one else to do it, and _that’s_ my fault, too,” he pursed his lips and inhaled deeply through his nose to fight back the tears looming just behind is eyes. He replaced his glasses on the bridge of his nose and regarded his older self grimly.

The older Time Lord reached out and took his hand, and for that moment the tenderness from the previous night returned. They stayed silent for a long moment, before the gaze of the younger Doctor fell upon the wrist of the other. “Why in the name of Rassilon’s _pants_ are you wearing a wristwatch? And here I thought I’d outgrown the need for ironic accessories.”

It looks classy, though doesn’t it?” the older man withdrew his hand and brought it up to join the other one in straightening his bow tie, “Besides, it completes the look, don’t you think?” What he didn’t say, though he let himself think smugly, _Wristwatches are cool._


	6. Part 6

After clearing up the detritus of their morning meal, the two Time Lords returned to the control room, and hovered about the console. Adrift in the Time Vortex, neither of them had to pilot the TARDIS; instead the two analyzed readings and crunched numbers; calculating probabilities and identifying coordinates for future destinations.

Rose entered the room, skin still pink from her shower, her damp hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She was wearing a black skirt that came down to mid-thigh, and a dark pink jumper. “What are you two getting up to then?” she asked, putting a hand on the left shoulder of the older Doctor and the right shoulder of her Doctor, leaning into them and peeking over both to observe the circular script on the monitors. 

At the same moment, nearly-identical thoughts welled up in the two Time Lord brains as both smelled her crème rinse. It was the kind they’d bought at an alien market, and it smelled delicately of apple grass. Both Doctors recalled the hours they’d spent with Rose, sprawled out on his long coat, fingers entwined, the breeze tugging at them from all sides.

“Just plotting some coordinates. I thought I’d take you to the 2012 Olympic games; I thought you’d be keen on the gymnastics,” he winked.

Rose looked at him and smiled, “Sounds fun!”

The older Doctor gave a nearly-inaudible sigh, and Rose turned to look at him. His eyes were closed, and the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just,” he turned to look at her, peering at her with his green eyes, “you smell lovely,” he grinned.

She blushed at the compliment, but said, “’s why I showered, yeah?” her shy smile turned mischievous, and she added, “’s it remind you of anything?”

The older Time Lord grinned wolfishly, and leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Only how badly I wanted to shag you right there in the apple grass on New Earth.” His cheek brushed across hers until their lips met. He curled his fingers against her waist and traced his tongue across her lower lip; her tongue darted out to meet his, caressing it several times before he plunged into her mouth.

The Doctor heard his younger counterpart’s breathing change ever-so-slightly as he took in the sight of them. When Rose nipped at his lip, the Doctor in glasses gave a small growl, and Rose broke the kiss to look at him; his eyes were dark with desire, mirroring her own. She leaned over slightly, and took hold of his tie; pulling it from his jacket, she used it to tug him closer to her. She pulled his lips to hers and claimed them in a bruising kiss. The older Time Lord squeezed her hip again and leaned in to nuzzle her exposed neck, his soft brown hair grazing her skin and causing it to break out in goose bumps.

She sighed against the lips of her Doctor, breaking the kiss. Her breath was a little shaky, and she pressed her forehead to his and spoke, her lips so close to his that they brushed together as she asked, “Is that so, Doctor? Did you want to shag me rotten in the apple grass?” She could feel the other Doctor’s hand creeping from her waist and moving across the creamy skin of her stomach toward her breasts. 

“Yes,” her Doctor whispered, “I wanted to take you right there, right out in the open,” Rose whimpered at the sound of his words, and the feel of his hand creeping across her waist. Having both of them so close to her—touching her—made her ache with want. She turned her head toward the other Time Lord, who had been nipping at the tender skin of her neck, and kissed him, tongue slipping into his mouth. Her Doctor bent to press his lips to her neck; his free hand tugging at her jumper to give him access to her collarbone, which he raked his teeth gently across before soothing it with his tongue. 

Her mouth still busy with the older Doctor, she pulled on her Doctor’s tie to encourage him closer, and in moments he was covering half her body with his own, the other Doctor nearly mirroring his position. Her Doctor gripped her waist, his other hand tugging at her jumper as he lavished his attention on her neck. The older Time Lord nibbled at her lips, one hand cupping her cheek, the other her breast; his thumb traced the hardened peak of her nipple over the fabric of her bra and jumper.

Rose let go of her Doctor’s tie and slipped her hand between them to cup him over his trousers. When he pushed into her touch, she pressed the heel of her palm against him, causing him to groan. He left a trail of kisses up her neck and across her jaw, and was surprised when both of them seemed to pull him into the kiss. He was hesitant at first, but the feel of both sets of their lips against his was curious and wonderful. Rose’s lips were human-hot and plump, and his counterpart’s just slightly warmer than his own. Rose’s hand crept to his waist as their tongues mingled and their noses pressed together; it was clumsy but erotic, and the Doctor couldn’t help but rock his hips against Rose, his erection nudging at her hip. He felt her hand on the back of his, guiding his fingertips to the chest of his older self, running them over the buttons of his shirt.

The Doctor felt the fingers of his younger self working at the buttons of his shirt, and Rose tugged at the end of his bow tie. With her other hand, she untucked her Doctor’s shirt, and then pulled back slowly from the kiss they shared to unbutton the shirt of her Time Lord, her eyes transfixed on his lips as they worked against those of his older self. She tried to match his pace, button for button, her eyes falling to the movements of his hands as his long delicate fingers slowly opened the other Doctor’s shirt; once his work was done he ran his fingertips across the smooth skin of his counterpart. Rose watched with rapt attention, and mirrored her Doctor’s movements over the chest of the older Time Lord on his own chest, her fingers ghosting across his ribs as he caressed the other Doctor.

The two Doctors separated, both turning their heads to look at Rose. She slid one hand to the waist of her Doctor, and the other to the shoulder of the older Time Lord, slipping the nearer of his braces from his shoulder. She bit her lip and looked up at her Doctor, and he moved his hand to draw down the other, before slipping both hands beneath his counterpart’s shirt to push it from his shoulders. He moved slowly as he did, his eyes alternating between watching the torso of the man he would become rise and fall raggedly, and Rose’s reaction as he caressed and undressed his other self.

Her face was flushed and her breath uneven; her eyes were riveted to every place where his skin met the other man’s. When her Doctor dropped his arms to his sides, Rose shifted so she could pull his jacket off. When the older Doctor reclaimed her mouth, he was surprised when she whirled him around so that his bum pressed into edge of the console. She smoothed her hands over his chest, then cupped him over his trousers.

Rose knew that her arousal had made her bold; she only hoped that he wasn’t put off by it. On the contrary, it seemed to amplify their desire for her. In a flash, her Doctor was at her back, his hands skating along her curves, pausing to squeeze her hips before his cool fingers worked their way beneath her jumper.

The Doctor sighed as his fingers slid across the silky skin at her flanks; he rucked her jumper up as he moved toward her breasts. He kissed her neck, eyes open as he watched her mouth work against the lips of his older self, her hands stroking the pale skin of his chest, slipping between them to press her palm against his erection. The older Time Lord sighed against her lips, and her Doctor moved closer, pressing his own erection against her bum, which in turn pressed her closer to his other self.

The younger Doctor was growing impatient; he tugged at her jumper and growled when she lifted her arms in cooperation. He tossed the pink jumper onto the jump seat and admired the creamy expanse of her back, pressing his lips to the back of her neck to lavish it with wet kisses as he traced his fingertips across her skin; when they ghosted across the dip in the small of her back, she sighed against the mouth of his other self. She arched back into his touch, pressing her bum firmly against him.

The feel of her Doctor’s fingers skating across her skin made warmth pool low in her belly. She knew she was wet; could feel it soaking the crotch of her knickers. She moved against him, then moved her attentions from the older Time Lord’s lips to his neck, then his chest as she undid the button on his trousers; she lowered the zip and a thrill went through her at the rasping sound of it.

The older Doctor sighed and looked down his torso at Rose, whose tongue was circling his navel as she undid his trousers. She had moved slowly down his body, keeping her back straight and bending at the waist, pushing her bum against his counterpart. He bit his lip against the onslaught of new memories washing over him. He looked at his younger self, his fingers curled into her waist as he gently pushed his hips against hers. His eyes were fixed intently on what Rose was doing to him, and the older Doctor felt the powerful rush that came with the knowledge that he was being watched. His skin felt hot and his cock twitched; Rose noticed the excitement as she shimmied his trousers and pants down his hips just enough to give her access to his achingly hard length; her breath trailed over him and he gasped. When she took him into her mouth he groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against the edge of the console to support himself as he tipped his head back.

The Doctor watched the pleasure of the other Time Lord, watched his cock disappear and reappear between Rose’s lips as she moved. His eyes slowly traveled up the planes and curves of the other man’s torso to admire the column of his throat, and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he thickly swallowed his sounds of pleasure, trapping them low in his chest rather than let them escape into the air between them. The younger Time Lord stroked Rose’s smooth thighs, alternating between tracing lazy circles and squeezing firmly, slowly working his way up her legs and beneath her skirt. As he moved his touch to her inner thighs, she moaned, which in turn made his older self gasp.

He could feel Rose tense under his ministrations, anticipating the feeling of his hands in the place where she wanted to be touched the most. He wasn’t ready to give in just yet; he caressed her hips and the round of her bum until she whimpered. He withdrew one hand from beneath her skirt to cup himself over his trousers; the friction was wonderful, but the feel of the fabric against his flesh just made him restless. Still caressing her, he undid the clasp and button of his trousers.

Rose worked the flat of her tongue against the underside of the Doctor’s cock, the little choked-back sounds he made caused her heart to flutter and heat to rush to her aching folds. She needed to be touched, but her Doctor was ever the tease, moving slowly, too-gently, and backing away just when she thought he would move forward. She moved her hands to the hips of the Doctor in front of her and gave them a squeeze before dropping one hand to encircle his length. He groaned, and she hummed in response. Her Doctor moved away slightly, and at the rustle of his clothing and the sound of his zip being drawn down she began to tremble. Instead of giving her what she needed, though, he wasn’t touching her at all. And then he was. Her Doctor brought his right hand up her skirt and cupped her sex over her knickers, squeezing to create friction on her clit, pressing the heel of his palm against her aching folds; she moaned loudly and rocked back against his touch.

The older Time Lord watched his other self raptly as he stroked Rose, as he opened his trousers; he thought of what a shame it was that he’d stopped him the night before. It was such a nice body—one of his favorites, if he was honest—and if he hadn’t gotten ahead of himself, maybe he could have felt it more thoroughly. Had he not tried to push into the man’s mind, he may have allowed him to push into his body. The older Doctor sighed at the thought of the younger man keening beneath him as he nipped at his back, his moans as he worked a wet finger into his opening…

His thoughts were cut off by a loud moan from Rose, and the hum of her pleasure-strained voice against him made him groan. His younger self hiked her skirt up over her hips, so they could both admire the curve of her bum, and the sight of all that skin, the feel of her lips around his cock was too much. The Doctor peered down with green eyes at the expanse of her back, and smoothed his hands over her shoulders. He unhooked her bra and ghosted his fingers across her flesh to speed its removal from her body. Rose rolled her shoulders to help, and when her arms were free, it fell to the floor. The Doctor eagerly palmed her breasts as she continued to work his length with her mouth. He pinched her nipples gently and she responded by slipping her hand into his trousers to cup his balls.

The younger Time Lord couldn’t bear to wait any longer; he urged her to spread her legs a bit wider as he drew her knickers down from her hips. They dropped to her knees and hung there stubbornly; he took note of the glistening crotch as he adopted the wider stance necessary to line up his pelvis to Rose’s. He took down his trousers and pants as one, and steadied himself with his left hand on her hip. He took his cock, heavy and aching, in his right hand and gave himself a few experimental strokes. He looked up to see his older self watching him intently, leaning over to cup one of Rose’s breasts, his other loosely fisted in her hair. Their eyes met, and the younger Doctor smirked as he poised himself at Rose’s entrance. He took a deep breath, and drove himself into her in one fast, firm stroke. 

Rose could feel the Doctor at her entrance, waiting there, teasing her; he was pressing against her just enough that she could feel his heartsbeat against her sensitive flesh. She wanted to growl at him, to curse at him. _Just fuck me already!_ she thought in frustration. Then, in one firm stroke he was buried deeply inside her. Her mouth opened wide as she let out a very undignified sound against and around the older Time Lord’s cock; it was quickly silenced as the forward momentum pushed her further onto and against him, her loosened grip on his cock the only thing giving her any control at all as she took him deeply into her throat.

As her Doctor began to move, she put one hand on the console to brace herself, rocking her hips back into him as she continued to work the length of the older Time Lord between her lips. She matched her motions with those of her Doctor’s, sighing and moaning against the flesh in her mouth. She basked in the sensation of the two men inside her; a set of hands gripping her hips, and another set creeping delicately across the flesh of her back.

The younger Doctor could feel the faint hum of his counterpart’s mind as he studied his face; his eyes were closed, head tilted slightly downward, his lush brown hair hanging in his face. His breath was uneven and his lips pursed as he struggled to hold back his sounds of pleasure.

Rose keened as her Doctor thrust into her again and again, feeling two sets of cool hands caressing her flesh. He clenched his jaw to stifle the noises he was making and trap them in his throat. He was thankful that the other man’s eyes were closed as, guiltily, he drank in the sight of the older man’s smooth, flat chest, and he thought about how he might like to run his tongue across it. Just to see if it tasted similar to his own skin, of course. No other reason. No other reason _at all._

After a moment, that thought rippled down the years and worked its way into the older man’s head. His eyes snapped open and met the gaze of his younger self before taking in the rest of him; his blue Oxford was unbuttoned, exposing his lean torso, the muscles of his stomach rippling with the effort of thrusting into Rose. His hands gripped Rose at her ribs, his slender fingers curling ever-so-slightly against her flesh. The older Doctor reached out slowly cautiously, and laid his hands over the hands of his younger self. 

The younger Time Lord withdrew one hand and placed it over his counterpart’s hand, and squeezed. Rose felt the two Doctors as they caressed each other in this safe and tender way. The thought of them touching more of each other made her groan, recalling the night before when they had worked together to lavish her sex; she wanted them, wanted to drag them both back to the bed they’d shared and make love to them, touch them, suck them, fuck them until she couldn’t move any longer. With that thought, she swirled her tongue over the tip of the older Doctor, and rocked back hard against the younger one. Rose withdrew the older Time Lord from between her lips and started placing kisses on his abdomen instead, whispering against his flesh, “Come for me, please? I wan’ to taste you.”

He had been holding back for her, wanted to make sure she came before he did, but the sound of her words made him tremble. He felt her smile against his skin before she nipped at the flesh just below his navel; she stooped to take him into her mouth again. He looked at his younger self, who sighed at the sight, and tightened the grip he had on the back of his hand. 

The feel of the younger Time Lord’s hands against his, the feel of Rose’s hot mouth around him; both were exquisite. He squirmed and fought the urge to thrust into her mouth; her words still sounding in his ears, he gasped, and, clutching the hand under his and Rose’s side, he came.

The older Doctor came with a shout, and Rose hummed her approval as his flavor filled her mouth; the sound of his pleasure made her muscles tighten around her Doctor. She swallowed his essence, just a small bit escaping her lips as she released him. Her Doctor withdrew from her carefully, encouraging her to stand up straight, careful to keep her skirt rucked up. One of his hands moved from her side to her folds, his arm wrapping around her and encouraging her closer to the man in front of her, her knickers falling around her ankles as she moved. Her Doctor was pressed to her back, his cock hot and slick against her bum, his cool lips teasing softly at her neck as his fingers rubbed firm little circles against her clit.

She sighed at the sensation, licking her lips, the taste of the older Doctor still clinging to them. She reached up to daintily wipe her chin, but the Doctor stood straight, leaning into her as he gently caught her wrist and moved in to kiss her. He pressed his lips to hers, slipping down her chin to kiss his moisture from her skin before allowing his tongue to delve between her lips again, caressing the wet curves of her mouth. 

Her Doctor continued to stroke her deftly, pulling her to himself as his lips busied themselves with the right side of her neck. The older Time Lord claimed the left side, and when she tilted her head back to release a stifled moan of pleasure, his clever tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat. As the Doctor behind her continued to work his fingertips against her clit, the Doctor in front of her reached down and pushed two fingers into her. 

Rose cried out, her voice echoing off the walls of the control room as the ministrations of her Doctors became too much to handle, “Doctor!” she cried out to both of them. “Yes! Yes! Fuck!” both men nipped harder at her neck at the sound of her expletive. The hands that weren’t pleasuring Rose wrapped around her to grip each other, pulling them nearer to one another and Rose. “Doctor!” she cried out again. 

Hearing Rose call out to them made their blood simmer with want; four hearts raced in two chests, and at the same moment, each man wanted to touch the other. Each brought a free hand around to grip the flank of the other. When she called out again, the older Doctor kissed along her neck until he came close to the busy lips of his counterpart. Both broke away from Rose at the same moment, the green eyes of one locking onto the brown eyes of the other; the older Doctor leaned forward to claim his lips, but stopped short, feeling the ragged breath of his younger self.

It was only a moment, but an entire conversation seemed to hang in the air between the two Time Lords; their impressive brains allowing them to sort out this thing between them without neglecting Rose, who was moaning under their ministrations; her body was trembling as she neared her peak. The younger Doctor closed the minute distance still between them, plunging his tongue hungrily into the other man’s mouth. Blood raced to his cock at the feeling of surrender, accepting this attraction despite the unhealthy amount of self-loathing mixed in. _Sod Time Lord taboos,_ he thought. At that, he pressed his fingers more firmly to Rose’s slick flesh.

The feel of both men against her, cool bare flesh against her back and her chest, fingers lavishing attention on her sex was driving her wild. Tension was building low in her belly, reaching an unbearable crescendo. Her sex ached and grew more and more sensitive; they ceased their attentions on her neck, and for a moment all she felt was their breathing. Then she heard their mouths meet; the wet sounds of lips and tongues and the quiet growls low in their throats paired with the renewed pressure on her clit, and she came. It was electric and intense and the waves of pleasure that crashed over her threatened to pull her under, drown her, and drag her to the bottom of oblivion.

She was thankful to be pressed between the two men, because just then she wasn’t sure if her legs could support her; she seemed to drift in the tempest for an eternity before blinking her eyes open again; it was a few seconds more before she could support her weight on her legs again. The two Doctors were still snogging, even as they braced her weight so she wouldn’t fall over. As she regained her bearings and her footing, she was ready to extricate herself from between them, but was also afraid that they’d stop what they were doing. And she didn’t want them to stop. She wanted to keep going, to do more; she wanted to watch.

Rose took the chance and shifted a little, and surprisingly, the two didn’t break apart guiltily. She slipped from between them, and they quickly closed the space she’d left. The older Time Lord peeled off the Doctor’s blue Oxford and pulled him nearer. Rose would have been jealous if she weren’t distracted by the renewed desire flaring up in her. She wondered if her time with the Doctor had made her completely insatiable, or if it had something to do with all the extra Time Lord pheromones in the air. Either way, she felt her control melting away, and she sighed raggedly, “Doctor,” when neither of them responded, she spoke a bit more firmly, “Doctor.”

The two Time Lords parted and turned to look at her. She smiled at the glazed looks on their faces and bit her lip at the sight of their swollen, well-kissed lips. “Yes Rose?” the older one responded.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom. ‘s more comfortable, yeah?” she raked her eyes down their partially-clothed forms, pleasure twisting her womb as she realized that their trousers were still open and down, and that only for the grace of a few inches their cocks weren’t touching.

“Sure. Yes, of course,” the younger said, and the two men reluctantly broke apart; they began sorting their pants and trousers, and Rose’s heart sank. 

“Wait,” she said quietly, and both men froze. “I…oh Doctor,” she looked at one, then turning to the other, “Doctor, you two are…I didn’t mean for you to stop,” she sighs and bites her lip, “Please don’t stop.”

Her cheeks were flushed with arousal and embarrassment, and suddenly she felt incredibly self-conscious under their scrutiny; she stood beside the console in only her skirt, watching the haze of their shared ardor turn to mirth. Somehow the thought of them finding her arousal at the sight of them amusing was more upsetting than them being offended. She crossed an arm over the front of her bare torso and tucked he hand under her elbow. She nibbled at the skin of her thumb so she wouldn’t have to speak.

Her Doctor sensed her apprehension, and fought back a smile; he turned to the older man and, caging his torso between his arms as he braced himself on the edge of the console before recapturing his lips. The older Time Lord sank happily into the kiss, his tongue moving against the tongue of his younger self, new memories bubbling into his mind. The brand new, old salacious thoughts sent a thrill through him, and his ecstasy was punctuated by the younger man’s hand slipping into his still-opened denims to palm him over his pants.

Rose watched as their lips worked together, and shifted on her feet, rubbing her thighs together for friction. It was then that she realized her knickers would be soaked all over again if she were still wearing them. When her Doctor slipped his hand into the trousers of the other Doctor, a tiny strangled whimper escaped her.

The younger Time Lord broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to speak, eyes focusing on his counterpart’s lips rather than his eyes. “I think,” he said breathlessly, “Rose is right. We should take this to the bedroom,” he pressed the heel of his palm into the Doctor’s growing erection.

The idea that she wouldn’t be able to watch the way this progressed left her anxious and bereft. She felt like a peeping tom—the worst sort of pervert—intruding on their privacy; this was a form of introspection, really, and it’s hard to be introspective with an audience. At the same time, the renewed ache between her legs was fraying her sense of propriety; she wanted to watch.

The older Doctor swallowed thickly and nodded, eyes shut tightly at the pressure on his cock. He refocused on the mouth of the man in front of him, and as he flicked his gaze to his counterpart’s eyes, he spoke, “Rose?” he turned his face to look at hers, “We should _all_ go to the bedroom,” he said.

“You would want an audience, wouldn’t you?” the younger Doctor grinned, withdrawing his hand from the older Time Lord’s trousers and dipping to nip at his neck. It wasn’t much of a surprise, really; he loved the way Rose looked at him like he was oh-so-impressive as he explained some piece of alien tech, even when he feigned exasperation when she didn’t quite understand.

“I’m quite impressive, and what’s the point of that if there isn’t someone to see it?” he grinned smugly as his younger self retreated from his neck.

The younger Doctor turned to Rose, “This regeneration’s a cheeky one, Rose,” he turned to face the man in question, “And I hope he doesn’t mind a bit of audience participation,” he said, turning to shoot her a heated smile.

The older Time Lord bit his lip to control a smile, and nodded; his green eyes flicking hungrily to Rose. He reached out a hand to her in invitation. Her Doctor did the same, wriggling his fingers. She closed the distance between herself and her shirtless Time Lords, taking each of their hands in hers; together they navigated their way to the bed they shared.


	7. Part 7

Rose stretched out like a cat on the large bed she shared with the two Time Lords; she watched them raptly as they stood next to the opposite side of the bed. Their movements were slow and firm; hungry, yet restrained. They caressed each other, hands gripping flanks and biceps in turn as their lips moved against one another. Her Doctor growled and pulled the lower lip of the other man into his mouth and suckled it, scraping at it with his teeth until the older Doctor groaned; he released it, and Rose watched as the other man’s tongue darted out to trace the soft pink line of her Doctor’s upper lip. 

All the while, their hands trailed down, fingertips pausing briefly to caress and circle nipples, ghosting over the hair below one another’s navels before fumbling with their still-undone trousers. They struggled to undress one another, and after each had gotten free, they tumbled onto the bed only in their pants. The younger Doctor was on top, a hand caressing the other man’s cheek before raking his fingers gently into his hair and pulling their mouths more firmly together. Rose watched his hips as they pressed down against his older self, the muscles in his back rippling with the effort as his counterpart groaned beneath him. She squirmed and sighed, trying desperately to remain silent.

The Doctor savored the weight of the man on top of him, the feel his counterpart’s two hearts beating against his chest, and the feel of his hard length pressing into his hip as he thrust languidly against him. He smelled of Time and the TARDIS, bristled with Artron energy, his consciousness flickering in his mind; it was only an echo of himself, but it was beautiful. He wanted to press his fingers to the temples of his younger self and reach out for that flicker; he wanted to caress it and pull it into himself and surround his consciousness with it. Instead, he trailed his hand down the man’s flank, slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and gripping his bare arse as he bucked up into him.

Rose felt the dull ache in her groin turn into a painful throbbing as the blood rushed to her sex. Watching as the two Doctors moved against one another, Rose trailed the fingertips of her right hand down the valley between her breasts before cupping her left breast and rolling her nipple between her thumb and index finger. She then used her left hand to lavish attention on her right breast; she slid her right hand down her torso and to her hip and tugged down the zip of her skirt. Her fingers crept beneath the fabric to slip through well-trimmed curls. When she reached her folds, she stroked the freshly-shaved skin; she bit her lip and wondered what the Doctors would think, and wondered what would it would feel like to have their mouths against her bare, sensitive flesh.

At that thought, Rose used two of her fingers to spread herself, running her middle finger along her center to gather its moisture. She moved her fingers up, and began deftly stroking her clit in firm little circles. The friction and pressure helped alleviate her ache as she continued to watch the Time Lords beside her. Hints and flashes of tongues between lips, the rippling of subtly-toned muscles beneath milky skin, and the muffled sounds of pleasure they made sent chills up and down her spine. 

The older Doctor gained some leverage and rolled them over; now he was straddling his younger self, leaning to nip at his collarbone. His ample hair fell over his forehead and tickled the chin of the younger man. He felt Rose’s eyes on them and it made his flesh prickle with desire; he enjoyed being admired, but the smell of Rose’s arousal said this was more than that. He dipped his tongue into the hollow of the freckled throat beneath him, and slowly ran it up the column of the younger Time Lord’s neck, pausing briefly to wrap his lips around the bobbing Adam’s apple. 

The Doctor’s head was tilted back, his eyes shut tight, and he bit his lip as his older self ran his clever tongue up his exposed neck, pausing to kiss his chin before reclaiming his lips once more. He groaned into the mouth of the older Doctor, curling his slender fingers into soft brown locks at the back of his head to grip him and deepen the kiss. The older Time Lord shifted his hips and ground against him, and he felt a renewed wave of heat swell in his groin. The sensation of the older man’s hard length against his own was brilliant, but frustrating through the last vestiges of clothing they wore. 

The younger Time Lord moved his hips to match the rhythm of his counterpart, sighing into his mouth at the thought of the night before, his counterpart’s hand encircling them both. He could feel a blush of arousal spread across his freckled skin, and nipped at the lips of the other man. He was achingly hard and wanted to recast the spell he’d broken the night before. He slowly moved his hands along the sides of the Time Lord above him, and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the older man’s pants.

Rose whimpered as she watched her Doctor struggle to draw down the pants of the man on top of him, and the look of disintegrating restraint on both of their faces was too much. As the bare arse of the older man was revealed, Rose whimpered; the sight of her Doctor’s strong hands trailing over the creamy skin crumbled her control and she moved her fingers down and slid two of them inside herself. She let out a shuddering breath, and had she not been so turned on, she might have been embarrassed at the wet sounds her hand made against her flesh.

She watched as the two Doctors rolled, this time the older one tugging at the pants of the younger one, his hips wriggling to get the fabric down. Rose caught sight of their erections brushing against one another, full and hard and weeping. The two men locked eyes, mouths open in a silent gasp only inches apart, and Rose moaned. She increased the pace she’d set with her fingers, bending them more roughly to create the pressure she so desperately needed. She squirmed and struggled against her own pleasure, trying to keep her gaze locked on the Time Lords when all she wanted was to close her eyes and give in to the tension coiling itself tighter and tighter within her.

The corners of the younger Doctor’s mouth twitched in a smile at the sounds Rose was making beside them. He reached a hand between himself and the other Time Lord, and slicked his palm with their fluids before gripping both of their lengths firmly. “Move,” the older Doctor hissed through a clenched jaw. The younger Doctor rose on his arm until it was straight, then locked his elbow; bearing weight awkwardly on one knee so that he could lean a bit to one side, allowing Rose to see. He began to thrust into his own fist, his body trembling at the sensation of the other man’s length against his own. They moved together, and the rhythm of two pairs of hearts beating against his palm caused him to cry out something unintelligible in Gallifreyan.

The sound of the younger man’s voice above him, paired with the tickling excitement of Rose’s eyes roving over their naked bodies made him groan. “Oh…that’s just _brilliant_ ,” he gasped as his counterpart circled his thumb over the tip of his cock. He bit his lip again and fought the urge to let his eyes follow the wet sounds and soft whimpers coming from Rose’s direction. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillows, sighing as he listened for her. Her quiet gasps, her stifled moans, the sounds of her fingers moving over and into her sex; they all combined to make him bold. He reached up and gripped his younger self by the hair, pulling him down to cover him again. He groaned at the loss of the hand around his length, and nipped the lower lip of his younger self before pulling his head firmly to the side to lavish attention on the spot below his ear. 

The younger Time Lord whimpered when he felt the other man’s lips on his neck; a groan was twisted from his throat as the older Doctor began to suck and he could feel blood pooling beneath his skin. “Fuck,” he grunted through a clenched jaw as he bucked against his other self.

Rose was squirming and writhing on the bed beside them, her fingers and palm slick with her arousal; her Doctor rarely ever cursed, and to hear him say _that_ word was nearly all it took to make her come. She stood swaying on the razor’s edge of orgasm, waiting for the metaphorical breeze to send her tumbling over.

She wanted to reach out and touch them so badly. She imagined the smooth feel of their cool skin as she trailed her palms across each of their chests. She stroked her clit as she thought of having each of them in turn; she would straddle the older Doctor, and he would look into her eyes as though she were an impossible thing while she rode him to completion. Her Doctor would be on top of her, the back of her knee hitched up in the crook of his elbow as he drove into her, fiery passion and an unstoppable gob begging her to come, _“…just come Rose. Please. Come. Come for me.”_

The older Time Lord savored Rose’s ragged breaths, and once again he rolled himself and the other Doctor over, pinning him and caging his torso between his elbows. He ran his tongue along the collarbone of his younger self, before tracing his nose lightly through the soft hairs that covered his chest. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and finger as he lapped at the other one, and then moved to the soft skin of his belly. He exhaled against the freckled flesh and teased his navel with his tongue. With a small sigh, he moved lower and took the younger man’s cock into his mouth.

Rose had wriggled her skirt down to her thighs with all her desperate movements. She looked on as the Time Lords rolled once again, the older man pinning her Doctor to the bed. He immediately set to work, kissing his way down his lean, freckled torso. A thrill went down her spine and shot into her center as she realized that the older Time Lord was working his way toward the exact place she wanted him. As her Doctor’s cock disappeared into his mouth, Rose came; she continued to work her fingers rhythmically against herself. She cried out wordlessly, gasping and waited until her orgasm subsided before plunging her fingers into her channel and working hard to soothe away the very last of the aching tension. 

A new wave of heat passed to the younger Doctor’s groin as he heard Rose’s sounds of pleasure. He looked over at her for a moment and took in her heavily-lidded gaze. Through the haze of her orgasm, he saw utter wonder swirling with lust. A lazy smile crept across his face, but when the older Time Lord’s tongue swirled around the tip of him, he gasped and snapped his attention to the man bobbing up and down on his cock. When the older Doctor cupped his balls, he nearly sobbed at the sensation; he watched as the man gripped the base of him, and withdrew.

The older Doctor turned his head, still stroking rhythmically as he spoke, “Rose? Would you like to help me?” Rose whimpered. It felt like one of the most significant questions he’d ever asked her; it was somewhere up there with _Did I mention it also travels in time?_ and _You just assume I don’t dance?_

“Yes, Doctor,” she said breathlessly, shimmying her skirt the rest of the way off as she moved toward the two men. She paused for a moment to drink in the sparkle in his green eyes before pressing her lips to his. They kissed languorously for several moments before Rose pulled away to take her Doctor into her mouth. 

The younger Time Lord watched them breathlessly as they took turns attending to him, breaking away at regular intervals to snog before finally sharing his length between them. It felt incredible, but watching was even better. His counterpart’s mouth was skilled, and the Doctor admired his squared jaw as he worked to bring him off. Rose leaned down to nip at his hip, and that’s when he whimpered and gasped, “I’m close, I’m going to…” he trailed off at the feeling of the other man’s hand resting reassuringly on his hip as he increased his pace.

The older Doctor hummed approvingly as the man under him tensed and keened; he felt Rose’s lips on his neck as she whispered in his ear, “Don’t swallow.” Her words raced through the base of his spine and settled in his groin; he groaned, and it was at those vibrations that his younger self came with a cry, filling his mouth with his essence. He waited until the pulsing waves subsided before drawing off, and it was then that Rose framed his face with her hands and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth to lap at the fluids there. 

Rose trembled with desire as she tasted her Doctor on his lips; she moved her tongue along the older Time Lord’s, enjoying how his whole body unconsciously turned toward her. She reached down to encircle his length and began to stroke him. 

She’d been eager yet hesitant when he’d first arrived, worried that her Doctor would think her greedy for wanting more of him. It was abundantly clear that he was an open-minded man, but accepting something and practicing it were two different animals. She smiled inwardly at the thought of her first encounter with Jack Harkness; she’d thought it risqué that he—and other humans—had _danced_ across the stars. Now here she was, shagging two alien blokes that were really the same man.

They broke apart at the sound of the younger Time Lord’s sigh; Rose turned her attention to her Doctor and began to kiss her way up his torso, settling herself against him. His hair was a bit more disheveled than usual, and wilted with sweat; she reached up to brush it from his forehead.

He curled his arm around Rose and kissed her, turning toward her so that they were chest to chest, on their sides. His gaze shifted over her shoulder as the older Time Lord took his place at her back and reached across Rose to take hold of his younger self by the hip and pull the three of them into one embrace. 

As the two men drew closer to her, she could feel their erections, hot and pulsing, pressing against her flesh, and as the two men caressed her with their fingertips, she hungered for them both. She licked her lips and kissed her Doctor, while she reached behind her and took the other Doctor in her hand. She guided him carefully to where she wanted him and rolled her hips against his. A small whimper in the back of his throat said he understood.

The Doctor nuzzled the back of her neck, and as she returned her attentions of the man in front of her, he stroked his own length and urged more slick moisture from his body. His counterpart caressed Rose’s breasts, and she curled her leg up and over his hip. The older Time Lord moved closer, using his own wetness to prepare her body. When he brushed against her opening, she sighed against the lips of his younger self and rolled her hips against his own movements, encouraging him to continue.

The feel of the older Time Lord’s breath on the back of her neck sent chills through her body and made her nipples harden; her Doctor cupped her breasts in his hands and circled the dusky peaks with his thumbs as he leaned in to plant a trail of kisses along her jaw. He moved a hand along her flank to her hip, pausing briefly to squeeze the hand of the older Time Lord resting there before tracing his fingers lightly over her thigh. Her Doctor leaned in closer, and his cool skin contrasted wonderfully against her flushed inner thigh. The man behind her was hesitant, pressing himself to her tight opening, and trembling with restraint as he moved slowly into her.

The younger Time Lord groaned as he felt Rose’s teeth scrape across his bottom lip; she drew it into her mouth and sucked. She whimpered and her chest heaved with her shaking breath as the other Doctor entered her. Heat rushed to his groin at the sound of her pleasure; he slid his hand along her skin and between her legs feeling the soft, neat patch of her curls and humming in approval as his fingertips brushed her smooth folds.

When her Doctor pressed his fingers into her warmth, her muscles tensed. The Doctor behind her gave a soft sigh, and she raised an arm to curl her fingers into the hair on the back of his head as he continued to lavish his attention on the back of her neck. She rolled her hips and spoke against her Doctor’s lips, “Please, Doctor; make love to me.”

Rose’s lips brushed against his as she spoke and her words caused a tendril of warmth to curl around his hearts. He moved his hand from her body and put it on himself, shifting his hips closer as he guided himself into her. She shifted awkwardly to free her trapped arm and then framed his face.

Rose peered into his brown eyes, her _I love you_ stuck stubbornly in her throat; she closed her eyes and kissed his lips instead, moving her hand to his waist and curling her leg around his thigh. When the older Time Lord brought his hand around to cup her breast, she covered his hand with hers, threading her fingers through his. “Doctor,” she sighed. She whimpered in frustration when she couldn’t get as close to either of them as she wanted; couldn’t hold them both to her. The older Doctor seemed to realize it at the same time as the younger one, and they reached for one another; the younger man’s hand on the elder’s flank, the older Time Lord’s hand gripping the waist of the younger.

As the Doctors pulled the three of them into one embrace, Rose sighed; she rolled her hips between them as they thrust into her again and again. She curled her arm around that of the older Doctor to feel as much of his skin against hers as possible, and entwined her fingers with his against the waist of her Doctor, pulling him closer and slipping their hands up as she moved her leg further up his hip. It was then that the two men set up an alternating rhythm, pushing into her in slow, firm strokes.

The older Time Lord moved his hand from beneath hers, and pressed it into the flesh of his younger self before slipping his own hand between them to stroke Rose’s sensitive clit. He dipped his hand lower to feel where she was joined with his counterpart, feeling the younger man’s hard cock, slick with Rose’s arousal, sliding between his fingers. Her Doctor groaned and nipped at her lip, pushing into her body with renewed force.

She moaned and writhed between them, and was helpless at their movements, one arm partially pinned; the other clutched at her Doctor as their concerted motions brought her closer and closer to the brink. The older Doctor returned his fingers to her clit, rubbing firm little circles against it as both Doctors thrust into her again and again. She could feel the thrum of their hearts at her chest and at her back, the older Time Lord’s lips at her neck, his teeth nipping her shoulder; she ran her tongue along the jaw of her Doctor and sighed.

The older Time Lord pushed into her, her body squeezing him insistently as he moved deeply into her heat. The warmth of her skin against his, her body around him was intense, and as the memories filtered in from his younger self, he felt as though he might burst. He reached again for her breast and cupped it gently as he peered over her shoulder into the eyes of his other self; they exchanged meaningful look.

The younger Doctor watched as his older self curled his arm over Rose’s so he could slip his hand between the side of her face and the pillow, pressing his fingertips to her temple, “Please,” he whispered as he thrust into her, and the sound of his older self’s voice spurred him on as well.

“Please, Rose,” he whispered, bringing his hand to the opposite side of her face.

“Yes,” she moaned softly. “Yes, Doctor.”

All three of them cried out as one as both men entered her mind. Rose gasped and felt her muscles tighten around them. Afterward, Rose wouldn’t be able to adequately describe the sensation, but it was as if the man she loved was spreading across and seeping into her consciousness in stereo, one—the one behind her—several shades darker than the other. She could feel his wonder and sorrow more clearly than ever before; she reached out with her mind to stroke at the edges of his.

Her touch was met with a cold, white wall. It flashed in her mind and then it was gone, replaced instead with the feeling that there were raging waters just beyond view ready to come crashing in at any moment. _‘s okay,_ she thought to him, _I’m here now,_ and she stroked his mind again. She imagined herself as syrup, and her Doctors as pancakes. She let the sweet, sticky mass of herself flood over their minds and flow into the crevices, soaking into them.

Both men groaned, and the younger Doctor thought to her, _I can taste maple syrup,_ his laughter rippling over her mind as he claimed her lips in a kiss. She felt them trickling into her, wrapping around her consciousness in return; she could almost see their smug smiles as they both moved for the same place in her mind, moving as one as they fluttered over _that spot_ in her consciousness. Once, twice, and the third time they stroked her, she came. She became less aware of her physical body as they thrust into her and filled her; instead she was lost, drifting in the crest of waves that the Doctors wouldn’t allow to break.

The younger Doctor felt her muscles squeezing his cock, the toes of one foot curl against his thigh, and it was… _brilliant_. His counterpart seemed to think so too; the younger Doctor could feel the man from the inside, thrusting into Rose with abandon. The sensation of it, paired with Rose’s body clutching him and trying desperately to coax his body into release mixed with the satisfaction of the mental link, and he groaned, trying to get as deeply into her body as he could as he emptied himself.

At the same time, the older Time Lord cried out, and it was then that he released his mental hold on Rose’s orgasm. She felt her Doctor withdraw at the same time, allowing her to drift down from her peak naturally, coming back to her physical self in time to feel both men pressed against her, their fingers sliding from her face down the curves of her body, and then to each other. The three of them stayed in that embrace for several minutes before the Doctors withdrew from her and rolled to their backs.

After several minutes recovering from the exertion, both Time Lords turned onto their sides again to face her. They began stroking their fingertips lovingly over her curves. Rose smiled, her eyes still half-lidded from the pleasure; she turned her head to kiss her Doctor—an chaste thing broken by their smiles—then turned to the other Doctor and kissed him in the same way. 

He cupped her cheek and smiled, his green eyes sparkling. “Rose Tyler,” he said, searching her face in wonder before focusing on her eyes again, “How long are you going to stay with me?”

Rose smiled softly, “Forever.” She leaned in and kissed him again, then covered his hand with her own and withdrew it from her cheek, maneuvering them both so she could lace their fingers together. She mirrored the gesture with her Doctor, and the three of them lay in a silence that was only broken by the occasional contented sigh, and stifled giggles from Rose and her Doctor.

The older Time Lord looked from the ceiling to the side of Rose’s face, her _forever_ a tune that echoed in his hearts as they beat in rhythm to the bittersweet timbre of his thoughts. To hear that promise again made his hearts sing; it also reminded him that the man he used to be would lose her in just a few short months, and when they’d found each other again…well. His eyes narrowed for a moment as he looked at his younger self and imagined his metacrisis; all blue pinstripes and earnest words for Rose. He hated himself for not telling her how he felt; _of course_ he knew it needed saying, but he knew if he’d said those words…well, who knew how complicated things might have got?

A dozen possibilities whirred in his brain; he and Rose leaving Pete’s World and leaving his metacrisis behind, heartbroken; Rose insisting that she come along, but only if they brought his duplicate as well; and—just possibly—allowing himself to be sealed off in Pete’s World, if only to extend everyone’s options and find a whole new universe to explore. That thought led him to wonder if Pete’s World had its own Gallifrey; and if so, did it also have Time Lords? He’d been too preoccupied to even consider seeking out other minds.

“I can almost see the wheels turnin’,” Rose whispered, lifting him from his thoughts. He didn’t want to think about the goodbyes long past, and instead focused on the one that was to come.

“I need to leave in the morning,” he said abruptly, putting on the academic tone he so often used as a shield. He winced a bit at how harsh he sounded, and softened his tone , “Or rather, you two will—seeing as you’re parked in my control room.”

“Understood,” his younger self replied.

Rose nodded ever-so-slightly before planting a kiss on his cheek. He turned to look at her, and the reassuring smile she gave him didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We’ll have tea before you go, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She knew he’d have to leave eventually, and honestly she was surprised he’d kept their company this long. While it made her heart ache to think she wouldn’t see him again, what really bothered her was that he would be saying goodbye to her all over again, and he would be alone. She never liked the idea of her Doctor being without a hand to hold, and had already chosen (on more than one occasion) to enter the fray to either try to save him or die alongside him.

The older Time Lord brought their joined hands up and pressed a kiss to the back of Rose’s hand. “I’m going to have a shower,” he said softly; his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes either.

After the older Doctor slipped into the en suite, Rose rolled to reach for a bottle of water on the night table. She propped herself up on one elbow, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip. She felt her Doctor slide up behind her, curling an arm around her waist and kissing at her neck.

“Want a sip?” she asked.

“Nn-mm,” he hummed against her flesh, and she recapped the bottle and returned it to the night table, “Want you,” he said in a low voice.

Rose knew that voice. She smirked, “You’re like a randy teenager,” she giggled, turning onto her back. Immediately the Doctor covered her body with his and nipped at her neck.

“Might be, just a bit,” he nipped her collar bone, “Don’t you like it?” he moved lower and wrapped his lips around her right nipple.

Rose sucked in a breath as he swirled his tongue around the hardening bud, pulled it gently between his teeth while his fingers gently worked the other one. “Of course I do,” she said biting her lip to hold back a pleased smile. She opened her legs just a bit further, and he settled himself between them. He kissed down the curve of her breasts to lick at the tender place between them, using his hands to press them gently against his cheeks for a moment.

“Then let me make love to you,” he said against her skin. Rose sighed and rolled her hips against him, already feeling him hard against her bare flesh. It was all the answer she wanted to give, and all the answer he needed; the Doctor slid into her with practiced ease, gasping at the heat at her center that he could never seem to fully prepare himself for.

They moved languorously together in the dim amber glow of the TARDIS lights, their caresses tender and measured, soaking in every inch of one another. When Rose came, is was a slow wave that washed over her, lulling her rather than overcoming her; she sighed against the Doctor’s skin, and he held her for several minutes before settling next to her. She turned onto her side, and he spooned her, brushing at her blonde locks until she drifted off to sleep.


	8. Part 8

The older Doctor returned from the en suite freshly showered with beads of water clinging to the small of his back; as he entered the comparatively-cooler bedroom, the beads grew heavy and slid down his smooth skin to soak into the waistband of his pants. The younger Time Lord couldn’t help but admire the migration patterns of the water droplets as his older self sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to towel his hair dry.

“Ah, that was refreshing,” the older Doctor said enthusiastically, pulling the towel from his head.

The younger Time Lord laughed at the state of his hair: “You look like a giant puff-ball!” he teased.

“Oi!” the other Doctor admonished, raking his fingers through his damp hair in an attempt to tidy it.

“Oh, that’s not going to work, mate,” the younger man said playfully, sitting up and reaching for his counterpart. He set to work straightening the older man’s hair, experimenting a bit with the style (too long to spike up like his own hair…perhaps rake it back as his older self had been already been wearing it?) and pretending not to notice the way the older Doctor’s gaze kept drifting to his crotch. Maybe while he was at it, he would continue to pretend that raking his fingers through his counterpart’s hair had something to do with styling it, and nothing to do with feeling the weight and texture of it between his fingers. Their eyes met, and both acknowledged their pretense but said nothing. “You could really use a trim,” the younger Doctor remarks, reluctantly giving up his act of grooming.

“I have been busy, you know,” the older man said lightly, quirking a lopsided smile. He cast a glance behind his younger self and saw Rose, curled up in the sheets sound asleep. “She looks comfortable,” his smile righted itself.

“Comfortable and well-shagged.”

“Try not to look so smug about it; after all, you look thoroughly shagged yourself.”

“Do I?”

“Yes.”

“Now _you’re_ the one who looks smug,” the younger Doctor said.

“Just remembering the noises you were making while Rose and I…” the older Time Lord smirked and his eyes flicked down his counterpart’s lean torso. He licked his lips and met his eyes again.

“Yes. Well, it was—that was—brilliant really,” he responded, eyes suddenly transfixed on the older man’s full lips. He tugged at his ear, and thought of their first night together; they’d talked as Rose slept beside them, and as strange as it was to share—with himself, no less—it felt as though everything was right with the universe.

The memories ripple into the older Time Lord’s head as the younger man continues to struggle with his words. “Fancy a cuddle?” the older Doctor says at last.

The younger man quirks a smile and nods. Both men settle themselves between the sheets, facing one another; one Doctor with his still-damp head of hair pillowed on his bent arm, and the other with his head propped up on his hand. The younger Time Lord uses his free hand to pull the older man closer; the green-eyed Doctor put his hand on his counterpart’s hip.

At the realization that his younger self was naked beneath the sheet, his thumb curled reflexively against the flesh. “Don’t worry,” the younger man said, “I’m not going to seduce you,” he waggled his eyebrows, “A bit tired for that, I’m afraid.”

“I bet,” he smirked, thinking of the new memories that appeared in his mind as he’d showered. His eyes traced over Rose’s sleeping form, “I…I _love_ her, you know,” the older Doctor says in a near-whisper, “I miss her every day. It hurts.” He watches Rose a moment longer before his eyes drift back to meet his counterpart.

“A wise woman once said—not to me of course, I was doing a bit of accidental eavesdropping—that some things are worth getting your heart broken for.”

“She was right. That’s part of why I didn’t turn right around and walk out when I saw her in your—our—TARDIS.”

“You couldn’t even if you’d wanted to.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I wouldn’t,” the younger man said, “if I were in your place.”

“Someday,” he grinned. 

There was a long pause between them, and at last the younger man spoke, his fingers tracing the faint lines of his counterpart’s ribs, “Do you know what Rose said to me this morning? Welll, what she implied?”

The older Doctor tilted his head a bit as he recalled, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he replies flatly, brushing a finger over the other man’s nipple, “And after…earlier…I find my previous reservations...”

“Waning?” the older Doctor finishes as he feels his counterpart’s fingers trace slowly down his torso.

“Waning, yes,” the younger Time Lord says, biting his lip and finally bringing his eyes to meet those of the other man, his fingertips halted just above his navel. “So,” he said, feeling his cheeks go hot.

“So,” the older Time Lord smiled, answering the question that hung unasked in the air between them as he cupped his counterpart’s cheek.

“Should we—”

The older Doctor stopped his words with a kiss. It was chaste at first, but when he parted his lips to capture the plump lower lip of his younger self and give it a nip, the younger Doctor whimpered and deepened the kiss. After a moment, the older Time Lord broke away and whispered, “We should take this elsewhere. Let Rose enjoy her afternoon nap.”

The younger Doctor nodded, and the two men carefully slipped out of bed. As the older Doctor reached the door, the younger stooped to step into his TARDIS-blue pants. He followed his counterpart for a moment before taking the lead to his bedroom. 

**

Once inside his bedroom, the younger Doctor closed the door behind them and leaned against it. He was suddenly hesitant and bashful; for what reason he wasn’t sure, but suddenly he couldn’t look the other man in the eye. He didn’t want to lose his nerve. In fact, he was fairly certain he knew exactly what he _did_ want. “Do you want to—I mean, we could—I didn’t—we didn’t…really… _talk_ about what we’d do…when we got here,” the younger Time Lord floundered, standing up straight and tugging at his ear for a moment before ruffling a hand through his hair.

“I have a very clear idea of what we’re going to do, don’t you?” the older Doctor said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He leaned back on his hands, and his counterpart’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his brown eyes drank in the lines of his body.

“I just…I want—”

“I know. Just come here,” the older man said, holding out his hand.

The younger Doctor crossed the room and slipped his hand into the one offered to him. The older Time Lord grinned, “That’s the spirit!” and fell backward, tugging his younger self with him—down on top of him—onto the duvet.

The Doctor looked into his counterpart’s green eyes; he moved ever-so-slightly forward, ready to kiss the lips of his future self, but paused to savor the feel of his own thigh between the other man’s legs, their torsos ever so slightly touching. The heat was radiating between them; not the sort of heat that poured off of Rose when they’d lie together like this, but the feeling was just as electric. It gave him chills and made the hairs on his arms stand on end.

The man above him paused for several seconds, full lips slightly parted and brown eyes staring into his own with something between awe and trepidation. It flickered for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched in an attempt to quirk a smile, and then the younger man’s lips were pressed to his own.

He kissed the man beneath him for all he was worth, sliding his tongue out to trace the lower lip of his other self before slipping it inside to explore the curves of his mouth. The older Doctor sucked at the tip of his tongue and it made him whimper. He pressed closer to him, and for a moment regretted that they were already mostly undressed; he would have so loved to undress the older Time Lord, and to be undressed by him.

The feel of the younger man’s skin pressing against his sent heat racing to his groin. He groaned and clutched at his counterpart’s waist, threaded the fingers of his other hand into the chestnut hair of the man on top of him. It was then that his younger self broke the kiss to nip at his earlobe, his warm breath tickling him and sending chills along the entire length of the right side of his body.

Languidly, the younger Doctor mouthed his neck; caressing, nipping and nibbling from his ear to his clavicle, running his tongue along the curve of it. As he worked his clever tongue right to left along the bone, the older Time Lord tipped his head back in a sigh, the younger Doctor’s hair tickling his neck and chin.

“That is brilliant,” the older man said breathlessly.

_“You’re_ brilliant,” the younger said against his skin before dipping his tongue into the hollow of his throat and running it up to tease his Adam’s apple, “ _And_ you smell of vanilla.” He inhaled the older man’s scent deeply, as his own skin became hotter and more sensitive, flushing with arousal as blood rushed to his groin.

The older Doctor withdrew his hand from his counterpart’s hair, traced his fingertips down the smooth skin of his flank, and cupped his bum, bringing their hips together. The younger Time Lord sighed and leaned down to recapture the older man’s lips, feeling their hardening lengths press together through the thin fabric of their pants.

The Doctor leaned down to nip at his older counterpart’s collarbone before drifting lower, kissing his chest between where his two hearts beat, letting the light peppering of hair there tickle his lips and nose. He turned his head and pressed his ear to the flat plane of the chest beneath him and listened.

The other man’s sideburn made his skin itch as he looked down at the shock of chestnut hair. He felt his younger self’s cheek flex with a smile. “What?”

“Right one’s a bit lower this time,” he replies, not moving from his position.

The older Time Lord grins, “Yeah,” he whispered softly as he ran fingers through his counterpart’s hair; pausing for a moment to stroke the curve of his ear before drawing lazy, meaningless circles on the round of his shoulder.

The younger man shut his eyes to the _thump-thump-thump-thumping_ of the older Time Lord’s heartsbeat and took a deep breath. He gave a dreamy sigh as he exhaled, and then resumed the kissing; first where his ear had been pressed, and then slowly he worked his way to the Doctor’s left nipple. He covered it with his parted lips, laved it with his tongue, and then sucked in a quick breath. The sudden rush of air on the older Time Lord’s moist skin chilled the sensitive bud and made it harden. The younger Doctor smiled against his flesh at the little whimper his counterpart gave, and then moved to repeat the attention on his right nipple.

He looked down the length of his torso as the man he used to be kissed his way lower and lower; warm, plump lips and hot breath sliding across his skin. He shifted a little as the younger Doctor nuzzled ever so lightly at the trail of hair on his belly, moving the hairs just so and tickling him; the sensation sent bolts of pleasure straight to his cock and he gasped, his fingers clutching ineffectually at the duvet.

The younger Time Lord looked up at the elder one to see his green eyes shut, a look of guilty anticipation on his face, and his hands bunched weakly in the duvet. He couldn’t help but quirk a smug smile. He slid his fingers along the older man’s narrow hips and hooked the waistband of his pants, minding his sizeable erection as he pulled them down. 

When the younger Doctor moved to disentangle his legs from his pants, the older Doctor shifted so that he was in the center of the bed. He bit his lip and watched as his younger self crawled almost cat-like up his body and settled between his legs. His brown eyes were heavily lidded before they fell shut. He dipped his head toward the older Time Lord’s straining erection, and hesitated. The anticipation of it made his cock twitch, and as his younger self exhaled against the taut flesh, he whimpered.

He felt the flat of the younger Doctor’s tongue against his balls and groaned, tightening his grip on the duvet. His head fell back against the pillow, and he bit his lip to stop himself from calling out his own name. _I’m a bit vain, but not_ that _vain,_ he thought through the haze of arousal, whimpering as his younger self licked and sucked and teased. He could feel moisture low on his belly, and when he dared to look, he saw a thin line of precome stretched from the end of his cock to the pale flesh just below his navel. His first instinct was to be embarrassed, but just beyond the evidence of his arousal, he saw the face of his younger self in a state of relaxed concentration, mouth busy and lips teasing his sensitive flesh.

As he watched, his embarrassment fled and he let go of some of his Time Lord control; immediately more moisture welled up from him, some sliding down his length and more dripping onto his belly. His breath was shallow and trembling, and he made a noise deep in his throat; just when he thought that sound would burst forth and form pleading words of want—of _need_ —his younger self pulled back. He ran the tip of his clever tongue softly along the base of his cock before slowly working toward the tip.

The younger Time Lord lavished attention on the elder one, delighting in every hushed sound; every hitch of his breath. He was through teasing, and slowly ran the tip of his tongue up the other man’s length, curling a hand around the base and squeezing gently as he twirled his tongue around the wet tip. 

The Doctor groaned at the feel of his counterpart’s lips as they wrapped around the head of his cock, his tongue caressing and swirling. The movements of his hand were slow and firm, its progress made easy by the slick arousal of the older Time Lord. A few more languid strokes and he withdrew his hand, taking this counterpart’s length as far into his mouth as possible. “Oh, bloody _hell_ ,” the older Doctor hissed through clenched teeth, his breath uneven. He raked a hand through his hair once before running his fingers through his counterpart’s hair, his fingers curling weakly.

The short nails of his older self scratching gently against his scalp caused him to moan, which caused the fingers in his hair to curl and pull. The Doctor smiled inwardly at his prowess, and moved his hand, fingers slicked with saliva and precome, slowly and carefully toward his counterpart’s opening. He expected protest, or panic, but neither happened; he carefully massaged the man’s hole with the tip of a finger, spreading moisture there.

He felt he tip of his counterpart’s finger press into him, and whimpered. Slowly, the finger sank further inside, and he struggled not to move against it. His younger self must have sensed it, and placed his free hand on his hip, humming around his length. Slowly, he buried his finger all the way before curling it deftly against his counterpart’s insides.

As his mouth worked the length of the older Doctor’s shaft, his finger pushed in and out, curling and searching for the place that would make him squirm and moan. He knew when he found it, because his older self twisted his hand in his hair painfully hard, and hissed several curses in Gallifreyan. The younger Doctor teased the spot a bit more before withdrawing; he swirled his tongue against the head of his counterpart’s cock before releasing it with a wet pop. He kissed the hollow of his hip, and as he mouthed a wet path across the older Doctor’s tender flesh, he withdrew his finger. He shifted a bit, maneuvering his counterpart’s legs into a more suitable position, and then used his thumbs to spread his arse cheeks. Delicately, he dipped his tongue into the cleft of his arse and traced the rim of his tight hole.

The older Doctor moaned at the feel of that clever tongue against his sensitive flesh, and for just a moment missed the man he used to be, and the— _oh!_ “Yes!” he choked out as his younger self pressed his tongue inside. He trembled at the feel of his counterpart pulling him nearer, shifting his hips, nuzzling his balls, using his thumbs to spread his arse cheeks wider; he plunged his tongue even deeper, and the older Time Lord groaned. 

The sounds of pleasure spurred him on as he worked his tongue in and out; withdrawing to twirl and tease his opening before plunging in again. Finally, he pulled back to kiss the older Doctor’s thigh, nipping at the creamy skin before plunging two fingers into his own mouth.

The younger Time Lord pressed one slicked finger to his counterpart’s tight entrance and pushed in slowly; he made easier progress this time, and smiled smugly to himself at the moan that escaped the throat of the other man. After a minute, he carefully slid a second finger alongside the first, working them in and out to prepare him for what he planned next.

The older Doctor was desperate to be touched; he cock was heavy and aching. He reached a hand down to give it just a bit of attention—a few strokes, just a few strokes—but his counterpart batted his hand away, “Ah-ah,” he said, grinning salaciously. While looking him in the eye, he kissed the tip of his cock and wrapped his lips around the end. His eyes fell shut and the older Doctor looked on as his entire length disappeared between his lips.

The Time Lord on his back sighed and raked a hand through his own hair, closing his eyes and breathing shallowly. Finally he broke the near silence between them, “That is _brilliant,_ ” he said his voice straining against the pleasure of being fucked by the other man’s fingers, feeling him swallow around his aching erection, and the slight delay as the memories of being the other man—doing this—washed over him.

The younger Doctor released him and grinned, “You said that already,” he curled his fingers slightly inside the older man, eliciting a moan, “Short-circuiting your brain, am I?” He runs the flat of his tongue up the underside of the Doctor’s cock, catching a bead of precome perched on the tip and then licking his lips before grinning widely, his tongue perched behind his teeth an one eyebrow cocked, daring his counterpart to deny it. When his counterpart makes no attempt to deny it, he bites his lower lip and makes a pleased sound.

The Doctor sat up at the same time as he pulled his younger self toward him, and claimed his plump lips in a bruising kiss before forcing his tongue between them. As he threaded a hand into the hair at the back of his head, holding him closer, he pulled him down on top of him. The two Time Lords smiled against each other’s lips as the collapsed onto the duvet, the older one raking his hands down the younger one’s back, suddenly hungry to touch every inch of him.

It was then that he felt the press of his younger counterpart’s erection against his own, and realized he was still wearing his pants. “Take these off,” he growls against his lips, tugging at the waistband. Together, they struggled to pull off the offending garment, but they only got the pants midway down his thighs before the older Doctor growled and rolled them over.

The older Time Lord covered his body with his own, and it was only when their bare cocks were pressed together that the younger Doctor realized how much he ached. When his older self ground against him, the pressure was a relief and an agony at the same time; he groaned and bucked his hips. The younger Time Lord looked up into green eyes that reflected the hunger in his own; the older man leaned down to nuzzle his jaw and encourage him to turn his head, exposing his neck. The older Doctor nipped at the hollow just beneath his ear, then sucked at his flesh until he whimpered. He knew the man had left a mark, but when the man on top of him rolls his hips, he just _doesn’t care._

“Want you,” the younger Doctor gasped as the elder one’s hair tickled his chin and jaw; he worked his tongue into the hollow of his throat and was moving toward the younger man’s Adam’s apple when he stopped and pulled back to smirk at the man beneath him.

“Then have me. You’ve been thinking about it for the last thirty-eight minutes and forty-six seconds,” his smirk turned into a grin. The younger Time Lord grinned right back, and flipped them again, disentangling his pants from his legs in the process. “Should I…” the older Doctor trailed off and made a gesture as if he should turn onto his stomach.

“No,” the younger one smiled, touching his cheek. There was tenderness there that made all four of their hearts ache. The Doctor was poised above his older self, lying between his bent legs as he took his own hard length in hand. He concentrated, willed his body to cooperate, and stroked himself a few times, creating an abundance of moisture that coated his fingers, palm, and cock. He slipped his fingers into the cleft of his counterpart’s arse and slicked his hole, dipping a finger inside once more before withdrawing to take himself in hand.

He could feel his younger self at his entrance, and his muscles tensed for a moment in excitement before he forced himself to relax. “Are you sure about this?” brown eyes gazed down at him questioningly.

“Yes.”

The younger Doctor moved slowly, sinking the tip into his older self’s tight hole; when he winced, he paused. It required an admirable amount of self-control, even for a Time Lord, not to just thrust in all in one go. He took a few breaths waiting for the other man to relax, then pushed in a bit more. The feel of him, the heat of his body around his cock was beautiful. “Oh fuck,” he hissed, pausing again to give his counterpart time to adjust.

His body trembled with intense arousal that dampened the pain of being stretched. He winced as his younger self filled him, but then his body relaxed again and the younger Doctor continued. Finally he was buried to the hilt, and the younger Doctor leaned down to kiss his lips, trapping his erection between the flat planes of their bellies for a moment before retreating again. For just a fraction of a second, the older Doctor could swear he smelled the scent of red grass on the skin of the man above him. He shifted his hips a little to show that he was ready.

His younger self withdrew slightly, and then pushed in again, building up to an impressive rhythm of slow, firm strokes. He moved his hips to join each thrust, longing to feel him deeper, faster, and harder. The two men groaned and clutched at each other, the older Doctor’s hands slipping down to his counterpart’s arse and pulling him closer. “Yes. _Yes!_ ” the older Doctor sighed, and his younger self quickened his pace. 

The Doctor leaned in once again to claim the lips of his older counterpart, swallowing the other man’s unintelligible groans of pleasure as he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into him. He was so warm, and they fit together so well; it just felt _right_ no matter how taboo it was. All he could see now was the man he would someday become, eyes full of hunger and sadness, missing Rose and longing—just as he did before meeting Rose—to feel as though he fit somewhere.

His slid his fingers along his arm, over the round of his shoulder and traced the line of his squared jaw. The younger Doctor’s fingertips came to rest at his counterpart’s temples, and he whispered, “May I?” the memories rippled into his mind, allowing him access to the younger man’s thoughts. _You were right to want this. I’m sorry I was such a tosser. I’m finally ready._

Slowly, the older Time Lord raised his fingertips to mirror the position of his counterpart; it was then that both men stilled for a moment. The younger Doctor withdrew, and as he formed a mental connection with his counterpart, he thrust in again, allowing his mind to mirror his body. At the same time, his older self slid into his mind as well.

Both men groaned at the mental contact; neither had had another person in their mind in such a long, long time. The elder Doctor had felt the Master’s touch many times during the Year that Never Was, and again not long before he’d regenerated, but his younger self hadn’t been touched like this since…well the closest _he’d_ come to this sort of thing was Reinette Poisson peering into his head like a child with her hands cupped over her brow, peering into a shop window.

_“Oh my, this is—you’re…fantastic,”_ the younger Doctor spoke in the other man’s mind. He hadn’t felt this sensation since before the War, and had nearly forgotten how brilliant it could be. Rose was always willing to accept him into her mind, and when he was there, she would wrap him in her love, warmth, and kindness; she was learning how to touch his consciousness, but she could never enter his mind. He felt a twinge of sadness at that, but it fell away as his older self moved further into his mind, brushing along all the right places and making him groan and whimper.

_“You’re fantastic,”_ his older self replied, sliding along the tendrils of his consciousness like a cat, reaching out to stroke at his pleasure centers and chase away the melancholy threatening to encroach. This body was none too graceful, but his mind wasn’t encumbered by the same awkwardness of its vessel. 

The younger Doctor was present in his counterpart’s mind, the most notable features being the large locked door, behind which lay the secrets of his future; the smell of loneliness and sorrow that permeated everything like the smell of damp in a basement; and the way the mind of his older self seemed just a few shades darker than his own. He’d noticed this as they’d shared space in Rose’s mind and body, but it seemed starker now. He reached out to stroke the curls of the older man’s consciousness, and delighted as the loneliness abated.

The older Time Lord felt his happiness. _“That’s just us all over, isn’t it?”_

_“It is a bit, yeah.”_

They smiled and kissed, tongues darting out to taste lips and smiling against one another’s mouths. This was the sense of belonging the elder man had been looking for; just a few stolen moments where he could pretend he wasn’t the Last, touch and be touched. He groaned as his younger self thrust into him with renewed vigor; the mental connection was unraveling his control. He himself could relate to that; his resolve was crumbling as well, “D—” he stopped short of calling out his own name, and instead only said, “Faster. _Please.”_

The need in his voice was nearly enough to break him; the younger Doctor made sure their connection was secure before withdrawing his fingers from the man’s temples. He braced his hands on either side of his counterpart; one above his left shoulder, the other at his right flank, and began moving with more force. “Oh, fuck,” he grunted.

“There’s that silver tongue,” the older grinned cheekily before biting his lip.

“Didn’t, think, you had, a problem, with…my tongue,” he replied pausing as he thrust into his counterpart’s tight hole. 

“Oh, no problem…at _all_ ,” he gasped, as the Doctor’s mind nudged his own; he shifted his legs to allow his counterpart deeper inside him, “I think, I like, when you use… _language_ , as much as Rose does.”

_“So you’d like it if I told you how good it feels to fuck your arse?”_ the younger Doctor said into his mind. He allowed the sensations he was experiencing to trickle across their shared connection, and the older Doctor gave a shout. He was bombarded by sensation, feeling his counterpart’s experiences through the mental link as well as memory, as well as the feeling of being filled and fucked.

_“You need to stop that; the link…the memories, you’re going to make me come.”_

The younger Time Lord eased back on their connection, but whispered, _“Isn’t that the point?”_

_“Yes, but I don’t want this to end yet. However, I do want you to say the thing again.”_

_“Oh, about how much I love having my cock buried inside of you?”_

The older Doctor groaned, _“Yes, that,”_ he considers, _“Say it aloud.”_

“Fuck, your arse feels so good around my cock; this is bloody amazing,” he says between a series of grunts and gasps.

Those words from his mouth nearly did him in, and when he felt the mischief of his younger self against his mind, he knew he was done for; the younger Time Lord opened their connection and poured all the sensations across it.

The noises emitted by the older Doctor were nothing made by intelligent, civilized creatures. The younger Time Lord watched in delight as the man beneath him came, streaking his own chest and with lines of slippery-sweet essence. He continued to thrust into him as he writhed in the throes of an orgasm that—the younger man thought smugly—he was doing quite a fantastic job of prolonging.

As his orgasm finally subsided, he opened his eyes again to see his younger self looking down at him hungrily. The older Doctor smirked and reached across their connection; he chuckled when his younger self moaned, and watched him raptly as he changed his pace, racing toward his own completion. Suddenly the older Time Lord longed for that; to feel his counterpart’s cock strain and throb inside of him as he emptied himself. _“Come,”_ he whispered into his mind, stroking the younger Doctor’s consciousness, sliding more sensations across their connection.

The Doctor bucked into his older self hard—one, twice, three times—and came with a shout. The older Time Lord basked in the glow of satisfaction that radiated from his counterpart’s mind, and felt and shared contentment of his own.

The younger man’s arms felt rubbery from exertion, and his back ached slightly. He relaxed a little, and felt wetness at his belly. _Oh._ He’d nearly forgotten. Slowly he withdrew from his counterpart’s body, sighing from the loss, and crawled down the elder Doctor’s form. 

The Doctor peered down into brown eyes, dark with mischief and the flickering embers of lust, their connection one of intimacy now, and not intercourse. He watched as his younger self dipped his head, extended that deft pink tongue of his, and swiped it through the pearly lines of come that marked his torso.

“Mmmm,” his younger self hummed in approval, lapping at the flesh just above his navel, slowly working his way up the length of his counterpart’s body, covering it with his own and feeling the remaining slickness between them as he finally reached the older man’s neck. “I think should have a shower,” he said, his lips so close to the skin of the older Doctor that each word was a kiss. He shifted against him to accentuate his point.

“Together?”

“You’re not going to get bashful on me now, are you? I think we’re well past that,” he said jokingly, his voice a husky growl as he nipped at the older Doctor’s earlobe. 

“ _You_ taking the piss about _me_ being bashful. Now that’s worth a laugh,” he grinned, his younger self’s breath tickling his ear. “Alright,” he said, changing his tone and slapping the younger Doctor’s arse playfully, “Let’s have that shower then.”

**

Fresh and clean, both with damp hair, the two Doctors lay between the sheets side by side, hand in hand. The younger Time Lord spoke first, "Well, that was a very… _invigorating_ shower,” he said, bringing their joined hands to his mouth and kissing the back of his counterpart’s hand before dropping them between them once more. The older Doctor’s only response was a grin.

There was a comfortable silence between them that stretched for minutes, when finally the older man spoke. “When you entered the data,” he began, running his thumb over the back of the younger Doctor’s hand, “You were expecting to find…” he trails off and makes a gestures at his nose and ears.

His counterpart laughed, “Yeah. Rose would’ve liked to see him, I think. She misses our old face, but won’t admit it.”

“She’s just afraid it will hurt your feelings.”

“She doesn’t know I know it, but sometimes she goes into the wardrobe room and wears our old jacket.”

“She always came out of there smelling faintly of leather the times she did,” the elder said, also remembering; safe talk, mutual memories; that was the way to avoid a paradox.

“I’d say we’re both pleased with this turn of events,” he gave his hand a squeeze.

“Something tells me your proposition wouldn’t have yielded the same outcome had you made it to him.”

“Quite right.”

“Can you imagine his moral indignation?” the older man laughed.

“Oh, yes!” he chuckled, then donned a northern accent, “And, you, _pretty boy_ , what sort of man have I become that I would subject Rose to such behavior? We’re supposed to look after her, not turn the TARDIS into a pleasure palace!”

The older Time Lord laughed and joined in, doing a poorer impression of their predecessor’s accent, “We don’t _do_ domestics, let alone what you’re implying.”

The younger Doctor dropped the accent and continued, “And little would he know that it was _Rose_ who corrupted _us_.”

“Oh, I remember that night,” his counterpart grinned slyly, “The black dressing gown and crotchless knickers,” he sucked in a breath at the memory, and then paused. “Hey, do you smell that?”

The younger Time Lord sniffed the air, “Smells like Rose is making tea.”

“Maybe we should give her a hand.”

“Yes, let’s.”


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update has been long overdue, and I thank all of my readers for their reviews and support across all the sites I post to. This is for you, and I hope you find it was worth the wait.
> 
> Beta'd by [DavidTennantsTrainers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DavidTennantsTrainers/pseuds/DavidTennantsTrainers)

Rose was halfway through preparing dinner—a fry-up for the three of them—when the two Doctors entered the galley. “I wasn’t sure where you’d gotten to,” she said over her shoulder, “but I figured you’d come when you smelled this,” she gestured at the sautéed garlic chicken she was preparing.

“It smells brilliant,” the older Doctor smiled as he began setting the table.

The younger Doctor stepped up behind her as she stirred the mixed vegetables, placing his hands on her hips and pressing a kiss to her neck. He inhaled her scent and whispered against her skin, “ _You_ smell brilliant.” He nipped her playfully in the place where her neck and shoulder met before retreating to tell his other self exactly which fork went where. “Why exactly are you even getting out the salad forks anyway? We aren’t having salad.”

“So? It’s a special occasion.”

“I’m just offering my managerial skills; if you don’t appreciate my contribution, you can just ignore it and set out all the superfluous silverware you’d like,” the younger man said playfully.

“Oh, your contribution is _very much_ appreciated,” the older man responded darkly, wearing a smug grin.

The younger Time Lord’s eyes went wide and he glanced at Rose, whose back was still to them. She gave no indication that she caught the innuendo, “Yes. Well—um—quite right,” the Doctor made a show of moving the placed silverware just a bit to the right or the left.

**

The Doctors and Rose sat down to their meal. The younger Doctor took up his wine glass, “To friends and lovers,” he smiled at Rose, then glanced to his older self.

“To lost things being found,” the older Doctor added. Rose looked at each of them in turn as her smile grew.

“To everything we share,” Rose said. Both Doctors smiled at the earnestness of her words and the naughtiness of the double-meaning.

They clicked their glasses and drank before tucking into their plates.

**

For a long while after supper, the three sat around finishing the better part of a second bottle of wine and laughing. Both Doctors regaled Rose with fun stories from the past; when the younger again teased the elder one for his tweed jacket, the older Time Lord objected, “Oi! Having worn that scarf and even a stalk of _celery_ , I don’t think this is the worst sartorial decision to be made thus far. Do you remember the coat?”

The younger Doctor laughed, “Oh, how could I forget?” After all, if his older self remembered, clearly he himself hadn’t forgotten.

“What coat?” Rose asked.

The two Doctors locked eyes, and then the elder spoke, “Why don’t we show her?”

The younger man grinned and got to his feet, wobbling a bit from the wine. He waved his arm toward the exit, “What do you say?”

“Of course!” Rose replied, standing in a similar fashion.

The older Doctor rubbed his hands together. “Brilliant,” his face suddenly fell, “Actually, not-so-brilliant. This is a bit like inviting someone to look at your high school yearbook photos,” he looked genuinely concerned for a moment, until Rose beamed at him.

“Good thing you never went to high school,” she said.

“Oi!” the younger Doctor spoke up, “ _Wellll_ , I _did—we_ did—actually,” he corrected, gesturing between himself and his older counterpart, “It wasn’t quite high school, but same basic concept.”

“It was quite a long time ago,” the older Time Lord added.

“We were quite grumpy and serious back then, weren’t we?”

“Yes,” the older Doctor added.

“With big hair and the Time Lord equivalent of bell-bottomed trousers?” Rose giggled darting past the two men and heading toward the wardrobe room. “This I have to see!” her voice floated back to them as they quickly followed.

**

“Oh. Oh! That is…I don’t even ‘ave words,” Rose covered her mouth with one hand while the fingers of the other traced slowly down the lapel of the patchwork coat. “You _really_ wore this?” She pursed her lips to stifle laughter. She didn’t feel right actually speaking badly of it; it was beautifully assembled, but on the other hand it was terribly garish.

“Absolutely!” her older Doctor said, “I was all blonde curls and snark back then.”

“More snark than the man you were when we first met?” Rose asked, addressing both of them as her eyes lit upon the pin on the lapel.

“The man that wore that coat could certainly give my last face a run for his money,” the younger Time Lord said matter-of-factly.

Rose returned her attention to her Doctor. “Do you ‘ave any pictures?”

“The TARDIS has information in her database, yes; holo-files and the like, but actual photos? No,” he replied.

“We’ve never been much for photos,” the older Time Lord chimed.

“That’s a shame,” she answered, her brows furrowed for a moment before her face broke into a wide grin, “You’re both quite handsome, after all,” her tongue peeked from between her teeth, “And there really is no replacement for a good old-fashioned photograph.”

Both Doctors recalled the framed photo Rose kept on her bedside table; Jackie standing in profile with her husband’s hand resting proudly on her swollen belly, both grinning widely for the camera.

“No, there isn’t,” the younger Doctor smiled.

“And if memory serves me…” the older Doctor trailed off as he darted around a rack of Victorian era clothing, pausing for just a moment to admire a long coat before disappearing from sight altogether, leaving Rose and her younger Time Lord to look at each other in slight confusion.

“Ah-ha!” they heard from a distance. The older Time Lord suddenly appeared from around the corner, holding two Polaroid cameras like he’d just won the lottery. “I found them!” When she saw that familiar smirk spread across her Doctor’s face, she realized what her Time Lords had in mind. Her mind raced at the implications, and her cheeks flushed as they became strained by one of her signature grins.

**

Rose nipped at her Doctor’s lower lip as she loosened his tie. Her fingers were deftly undoing the buttons of his Oxford as his hands drifted to her hips, thumbs hooked into her belt loops; he gripped her firmly and pulled her closer to him. She tugged his open shirt from his shoulders and slid it down his arms. She pressed a kiss just above the scoop neck of his vest, the sprinkling of hair tickling her nose. Their lips came together again, parted again; their tongues moved wetly against one another as the Doctor tugged at the hem of Rose’s shirt.

As soon as he’d removed it, she set to work on his vest. When his chest was bare to her, she placed her hands on it. She felt his hearts beneath her palms, and her fingers curled lightly into his skin. She looked into his eyes, and bit her lip.

_Flash_.

The Doctor looked back at her just as meaningfully, trailing his fingertips across her clavicle and down the valley of her breasts and the plane of her stomach. She shivered as his hands slid around her ribs, pulling her closer to him. “Rose, I—” he stopped himself, searching her face.

The older Doctor froze for a moment, his camera in hand. Could this moment really be _now_? Should he intervene? _No_. He held his breath and sought out the memories. Oh, his thoughts had raced, hearts pounded, and…

Instead of completing his sentence, the younger man kissed her hungrily as he unhooked her bra. Without breaking the kiss, he tugged her bra from her shoulders and let it fall at their feet. Rose brought her hands to his waist, and he brought one of the arms that encircled her to cup her jaw as his tongue explored the curves of her mouth more deeply.

Rose put a bit of space between them so she could bring her hands to his waist. She made short work of the clasp, button and zip. As she slipped her hand into his trousers to cup him over his pants, the Doctor broke the kiss; his forehead pressed to hers.

The older Time Lord took in the almost pained expression of his younger self, and snapped a second picture. He let his eyes linger on Rose’s breasts as the couple’s mouths came together again. His gaze drifted to Rose’s hand at the front of his counterpart’s trousers; he licked his lips as he remembered being _him_. He leaned back into the armchair, still clutching the camera in one hand while the other one undid the button and zip of his own trousers.

The Doctor’s pinstriped trousers slipped further down his hips as Rose backed him up slowly, her lips reclaiming his once more as her hand gently kneaded his growing erection. 

Her lips felt wonderful, and her fingers teased him through his pants. The pair of them were moving toward the over-sized chaise lounge, and when he felt the cushion at his calves, he whirled them and sent them both tumbling onto the tan velvet. 

The older Time Lord watched as the couple’s soft reverence turned desperate; they began to pull at each other’s clothing, struggling to undress one another without having to break apart. Rose tugged at the Doctor’s pants, pushing them down over his narrow hips as she wriggled to get her jeans the rest of the way off. “Doctor,” she sighed, curling her fingers into his hair as he nipped her collarbone, “Want you.”

He smiled against her skin as he pressed wet kisses from her collarbone to the valley between her breasts, cupping one in each hand. Rose arched her back and tightened her grip in his hair. The older Doctor sighed and took another picture. The two of them looked beautiful. Rose’s mouth opening in a gasp and then closing as she bit her lower lip, the curve of his counterpart’s back; the two of them were stunning, and he couldn’t help but gasp as his younger self took Rose’s nipple into his mouth.

The older Time Lord licked his lips and remembered being the other man. Heat flashed to his groin as he recalled how aroused he’d been, knowing that his older self was watching. He reached into his undone trousers and pressed his palm against his erection, trying to relieve some of the pressure.

Rose tugged gently at her Doctor’s hair, encouraging him to kiss her lips once more, and the Time Lord observed them freed up his hands to free himself from his trousers. As he watched his younger self slide into Rose, he took himself in hand, slicking himself with his own moisture as he took up the camera again.

He took in the scene before him: Rose splayed beneath his younger self, his mouth at the hollow of her throat and her fingers curled into his hair. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed as she bit her lip. One of his hands gripped her ribs, and the other braced himself above her as his narrow hips rolled against hers, his cock pushing into her as her legs wrapped around him, her feet settling against his calves. The older Doctor turned his attention away from the camera and to his cock. He stroked himself firmly, matching the pace of their movements and letting the memories wash over him as they rippled into existence. He licked his lips as he recalled her slick heat around him, his own arousal at having an audience of one. Leave it to Time Lords to ban temporal sex play; can’t have anyone enjoying themselves too much. It might distract them from all that uptight tradition and selective eugenics that made them one of the most advanced civilizations in the universe. It might—

Rose turned her head to look at the older Doctor and saw a storm behind his eyes that surprised, aroused, and frightened her in equal measure. Their eyes met, and suddenly his expression softened; he was self-conscious at having been caught out. She gave him a small smile and then pointedly moved her gaze to his lap, where his hand continued to work his length. He raised the camera and took another photo.

The younger Time Lord watched Rose’s arousal play across her face as much as he felt it in the way her muscles tensed around him; she was close. She returned her gaze to meet his, and he brought his fingers to her temples and paused; she nodded ever-so-slightly, granting him permission. He slipped into her mind and she moaned, dragging her legs up to wrap them around his waist, locking her ankles together to hold him to her. His mind slid further into hers, and he reached out for the pleasure center.

Everything felt beautiful, as though she were floating, and his presence all around her and within her was indescribable and inescapable; not that she’d ever want to escape. She reached for his mind and caressed him. She never wanted to leave his side, and she knew he could feel that across their connection. He moved against her mind again as he thrust into her body, and she came, crying out to him.

The tangle of emotions in Rose’s head burst into streaks of pleasure that wrapped all around his consciousness, and filling him with warmth until finally…

“Oh, Rose,” he grunted, thrusting one last time, desperate to be buried deeply within her as he emptied himself. As the strongest wave of his orgasm passed, he covered her mouth with his own, and she happily swallowed up the last of his cries, a hot thrill running through her as she heard the quiet whimper of the older Doctor.

As he watched Rose and his younger self, the memories overtook him and he lost control, barely able to stifle his groan as he came, his semen spilling over his knuckles and streaking his shirt. Flustered and impatient, he wiped his hand on his shirt and began freeing the buttons from the buttonholes. He shrugged his braces from his shoulders and peeled his shirt off. He needed Rose, _wanted_ her. He’d barely gone soft before his cock sprang to life again; his fantastic Time Lord biology was about to serve Rose and himself _very_ well. He went to her, his younger self more than happy to move aside, slipping his pants back on before taking up the second camera he’d left lying on the floor.

The older Doctor was desperate for her. His braces were still clipped to his undone trousers, which he had no intention of removing. He pulled them down just a little bit more and fell upon Rose, hitching one of her legs into the crook of his elbow and plunging his hard cock into her. “Doctor!” she cried, fisting her hands in his hair. She pulled _hard_ and he growled; oh he liked this, _loved_ this. 

When the older Time Lord covered her body with his own, she knew she was done for. There was passion and fury burning behind his green eyes, and she didn’t know if he could stop himself if he tried. There were few occasions in the time since their sexual relationship began that he’d taken her like this, and _this_ incarnation seemed to like it rough, even if—in true Doctor style—he felt guilty about it. “Yes!” she moaned. The Doctor took his free hand and gripped her arm, bringing it carefully above her head and pinning it there at the wrist. Rose struggled against his grip for a moment and it tightened, which made her breath catch and her slick walls tighten around the Time Lord’s cock. He inhaled sharply, then brought her other wrist up to join the first.

The younger Doctor looked on as his older self took Rose in a way they’d both fantasized about many times, beginning back when their eyes were blue. He’d only ever acted on it in his current body; once just after she’d gotten her face back from The Wire, again after Krop Tor and once more after they’d had another row over Mickey’s choice to stay in the parallel universe. But seeing it from the outside… _oh yes_ he was hard again. He took a photo of his beautiful young companion pinned beneath the body of his older self. The look of sheer pleasure that clung to her features nearly did him in. He took a second photo of just her face. His eyes roved over the scene before him, following the curves of his counterpart’s bare back and down to where his arse was half exposed. The amber light played off his skin beautifully, and he committed the image to film.

Rose keened beneath him, and he pressed on, sliding into her heat as he shifted her leg so he could tease his cock against just the right place.

As he took her, Rose couldn’t help but moan and whimper and call out to him. He circled his hips, pushed into her _just there_ one last time as his pelvic bone created such delicious friction on her clit that she came apart, clutching him with her legs because he still had her wrists pinned above her head. She wanted to grab him then; snog him, run her nails down his back and clutch his firm arse. She squirmed under his grasp and he pressed harder as he allowed himself to lose control, continuing to thrust powerfully into her even as he came. As his orgasm subsided, he loosened his grip on her wrists and collapsed against her body. She thought she’d hold him for a bit, and she ran her hands through his silky hair as a smile played across her lips. The younger Doctor took a photo.

“You two are brilliant,” the younger Time Lord said, his smile devoid of lust despite the tent in his pants.

No sooner had the words left his lips than the older Doctor began moving down Rose’s body, all of the fury gone out of him, leaving tenderness in its wake. “Doctor,” Rose whispered, stroking his jaw with her fingertips before creeping them once again into his hair. He knew she found it irresistible, and to be honest, he quite liked it when she gave it a bit of a tug.

Rose plunged the fingers of one hand into the older Doctor’s hair when the Time Lord wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked. “Oh!” she squirmed, and then there were hands pressing her hips into place, holding her still. She steadied herself with a few trembling breaths, but her cheeks grew more and more flushed. 

The Doctor watched as Rose struggled against her own pleasure. He’d be slightly amused if he weren’t so aroused at the sight of his older self; his lips were pressed to Rose’s sex, his tongue busy sampling the evidence of their coupling…and the memory of that thought must have just reached him, because he groaned against her flesh and plunged his tongue deeper into her.

The taste of her, of him—both versions—it was absolutely exquisite. Tasting his other self on Rose— _inside_ her—made him ache for his counterpart’s body. As his lips and his tongue pleased Rose, his mind wandered to thoughts of his younger self; the hard planes of his lean body, the tempting swell of his arse, the feel of that full bottom lip moving along his length, that deft tongue teasing the head of his cock...Rose’s hands fisted in his hair, tugging hard as her orgasm washed over her. He groaned against her sex as her fingernails scraped against his scalp, and when her pleasure subsided, he looked up at his counterpart, who stood beside them.

He looked down at his older self, his eyes dark and full of want. He licked his lips, hesitating only a moment before setting the camera aside and joining his lovers on the chaise. His counterpart curled a hand around the nape of his neck, fingers curling into his hair, and pulled him in for a deep kiss. His chin was still slick with Rose’s arousal, and the younger man couldn’t resist pulling back just a bit, and running his tongue along his counterpart’s chin, gathering the moisture. He closed his eyes and let out an almost inaudible sigh as he tasted the three of them there. The older man covered his mouth with his own before reasserting his grip and crushing their lips together and letting out a small groan.

Rose looked down the length of herself, one Doctor still poised between her legs, propped up on an elbow, and the other sitting at an awkward angle beside her still-spread legs as they snogged. As naughty as it made her feel, she loved watching the two of them; it caused delicious tension to coil in her belly and spread to her center as a pulsing ache. The older Time Lord sat up and his counterpart turned more fully toward him, planting a kiss on his hip before sucking at the tender flesh and leaving a mark.

“Lie down,” the older Doctor growled, and the younger complied, lying beside Rose, the side of his body flush against hers. The older Time Lord removed the last of his clothing, and then settled himself between his counterpart’s legs. He nipped the opposite hip before looking up the length of the lean body he used to have, and locked his gaze with Rose as he wrapped his lips around the cock of his younger self. He smiled inwardly at the lust that flickered in Rose’s eyes, at the intensified smell of her arousal as she watched him work his lips and tongue along the length of the younger man.

Rose’s hands were lying on her stomach, trembling, restless. Her sex was aching and she thought if she could just relieve some of the pressure, she might be able to keep quiet while her Time Lords enjoyed each other. That was when she felt her Doctor’s hand glide across her hip, his breath trembling, she glanced at him for a moment, and saw that his gaze was fixated on the older man’s lips, and the way his cock disappeared and reappeared between them. Her Doctor’s fingers found her clit and as he stroked and pressed, she whimpered. The older Time Lord let his hand creep up her thigh, his fingers teasing her entrance. She shifted to part her legs further, to encourage him and offer him greater access, hoping he’d do more than tease her.

When Rose opened herself to him, the scent of her arousal flooded his nostrils, and he couldn’t hold back any longer; he sank two fingers into her easily; she was so slick, and as he curled his fingers against her walls, he knew she was close to coming. He flicked his tongue against his counterpart’s cock and grinned inwardly at his very impressive ability to multi-task. He flexed his fingers again, and Rose groaned.

The Doctor watched as Rose squirmed beside him, one hand clutching his forearm as he worked her clit with his deft fingers. Her other hand clutched the curved back of the chaise, and oh how he wished he could take a photo of that. She sighed and shifted her hips against the ministrations of her Time Lords, bringing her eyes to meet the older Doctor’s once again.

His younger self was a bit too distracted to notice the meaningful look that passed between Rose and himself; the silent agreement at what would come next. He withdrew his fingers from her heat, and Rose tugged at her Doctor’s arm, stilling his motions. She shifted to a sitting position and encouraged him to straddle her.

“I wan’ to taste you, Doctor,” she said, running her hands down his torso and squeezing his slender hips. She leaned back to bear weight on her elbow, using her other hand to grip his thigh and encourage him to move up her body. A thrill ran through her as he obeyed, and she licked her full lips hungrily as his hard cock bobbed proudly before her.

The Doctor looked down the length of himself as Rose closed her lips around his length and groaned. She supported herself on her elbows as he straddled her chest; it was an awkward position, but one they’d done many times before. The amount of trust she put in him when they were like this; when he had her all but pinned beneath him, thrusting shallowly into her mouth to meet her movements…he _loved_ her—properly loved her—it was dizzying. Or perhaps that was just the pleasure welling up in him. He groaned and leaned forward, gripping the back of the chaise.

The older Time Lord watched the scene before him with rapt attention, stroking his fingers lazily over Rose’s legs as he moved up to straddle them. He stroked himself lightly with his hand as he planted a kiss on the curved back of his younger self, his free hand caressing his counterpart’s side before he drew his fingers down to clutch his hip.

The younger Doctor trembled at the feel of his counterpart’s presence behind him; the press of lips, and the gentle brush of his fingertips…he wanted him. His older self continued to lavish attention on his back, and he felt the rhythmic movement of the other man’s arm as he moved closer. The younger Time Lord groaned and leaned forward just a bit more, feeling a surge of pleasure as his older self moved flush against him, his hard cock nestling into the crack of his arse as the man leaned over him.

His younger self wanted him; he could smell his desire and read it in the lines of his body, the way he leaned forward just a bit more, offering himself. Just the thought of it made his cock twitch in his fist. He stroked his shaft and slicked his length with the resulting moisture as he thanked evolution for the gift of such precise control of his body. He sighed as he brought himself against his counterpart’s body, allowing the underside of his cock to rub deliciously against the bare flesh of his younger self. His hand now free, but slightly slick from his ministrations, he clutched his counterpart’s hip. He kissed and caressed the flesh he could reach before trailing his other hand up to the younger man’s shoulder. He gave it a squeeze before trailing his fingertips down the freckled bicep, along the tensed muscles of the forearm that supported him as he leaned over Rose.

The older Time Lord covered the clutched hand of the younger where it supported his weight on the sloping back of the chaise lounge. He returned his free hand to his length, and rubbed it along the cleft of his counterpart’s arse. A whimper bubbled up in his throat, followed by a quiet plea in Gallifreyan. 

Rose swirled her tongue around the head of her Doctor’s cock, her eyes darting over to where his hand was covered by the other Time Lord’s, gripping lightly in a gesture of restrained intimacy. Her Doctor whispered something almost inaudible, and the man behind him sighed. Her Time Lord leaned over just a bit farther, so she sank back further on her elbows. He thrust shallowly into her mouth once more, and hissed at the feel of the other man sliding into him. A thrill went through Rose and the thought of it, and when the older Time Lord’s hand appeared at her Doctor’s hip, she laced her fingers with his and brought their joined hands to the base of her Doctor’s cock.

He was buried deeply inside his counterpart, his hand in Rose’s as she guided him in stroking the other man’s cock, her lips brushing his fingers as she continued to suck and swirl her tongue over his length. As he created a steady rhythm, his younger self whimpered, and he heard Rose release him with a quiet _pop_. He felt her wriggling beneath his legs, moving higher up.

She wanted to watch them, to touch herself and relieve some of the unbearable pressure that had built up, but the sight before her was stunning; two gorgeous, slightly-sweaty Doctors, one behind the other, pulling him upright and into an embrace, both whispering and murmuring in Gallifreyan as the elder one fisted the cock of the younger one. She groped blindly at the floor and was relieved to find one of the cameras within reach. She brought it up took a picture of them; her Doctor biting his lip with his brow knitted in a mix of pain and pleasure, the older Time Lord clutching him and mouthing his neck. Rose returned the camera to the floor and snaked her fingers down between her legs, caressing her flesh and parting her sex to reach the moisture there. She brushed over her clit several times before slipping two fingers inside herself, and did her best to match the rhythm of the older Doctor.

The wet sounds of Rose’s fingers made the Doctor’s mind race. He looked down at her, eyes dark with lust and want as his counterpart filled him; when she cried out, he couldn’t bear it; he released the back of the chaise and moved his hands just above her shoulders, planting them on the tan fabric. He cried out at the change of angle, his older self sliding deeper into his arse as his own mouth contorted into a surprised _O_ , his plump bottom lip trembling. Rose used her free hand to cup his cheek, “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, and nipped at his lower lip. Her mouth opened under his as his fingers curled against the chaise and he reciprocated, whimpering into her mouth with each of his counterpart’s thrusts.

As he thrust deeper into his younger self, watching the muscles ripple in his shoulders as he steadied himself over Rose, the Doctor wanted more. He ran his hand up the taut curves of his counterpart’s back, repositioning his other hand on the Time Lord’s hip to pull him closer as his fingertips raked through chestnut hair to take their place at his temple.

He felt his older self at the edges of his mind, waiting for permission. The younger man reached out and pulled the other man’s mind into his, eliciting a tantalizing groan from his older self behind him, followed by a deep, firm thrust that made him cry out. The elder man’s presence tickled at his pleasure centers. _Pleaseplease, more. Now. Please. Yes. Yes_! Having his future self in his mind while filling his body was exquisite; he wanted more, faster, harder, louder. He wondered if this was what it felt like for Rose as he sank into her mind and her body subsumed him. The older Doctor answered back by withdrawing from his body and plunging in again _hard_ as he continued to delicately tease his consciousness across his counterpart’s synapses. 

Rose watched the older Time Lord claim the younger one, their eyes shifting behind closed eyelids as their minds met. Her eyes traveled down the column of her Doctor’s throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gasped and swallowed thickly. Her gaze fell to his neglected cock, and she reached up to wrap her hand around his straining length. She squeezed him firmly before running her hand up his length to collect his moisture. She kept her touches light, feeling almost guilty in her knowledge that it wouldn’t be enough under normal circumstances.

The older Doctor pulled the younger one upright, his cock slipping from Rose’s grasp. He exhaled a breath on the back of his counterpart’s neck and whispered into his mind, _Touch yourself_. It was a plea disguised as a firm command. _I want to watch you stroke your cock_ , he punctuating the admission with another deep thrust. With one hand still pressed to his counterpart’s face, he wrapped the other around his torso to hold him close. He peered over the other man’s shoulder and watched Rose pinned helplessly beneath them. She had a hand between her legs, though he couldn’t see it, and knew she was stroking her sex, pumping her fingers in and out at the sight of his two frankly magnificent bodies. Her chest, neck, and face were flushed pink with arousal.

The mind of the elder Doctor against his own became more insistent as it reached deeper into his own. The younger man’s eyes snapped open as he felt the elder’s consciousness plucking at his pleasure centers; his gentle teasing caresses grew more forceful, and the arm that held him in an embrace slid down so that his counterpart was once again fisting his cock, stroking him firmly in tandem with the ministrations he felt across their mental link. With one final push, the younger Doctor was coming, wave after wave crashing over him. His older self wasn’t letting up, and the orgasm went on and on until it was pleasure and agony and then pleasure again. He was too far gone to be self-conscious as he watched his semen streak Rose’s belly and breasts.

Watching his younger self mark Rose was all it took; he succumbed to the sensation of his younger self stroking his mind, releasing his hold on the other man’s pleasure as his own rose in a wave and carried him away. “Fuck!” he called out, bucking erratically into his younger self as he peaked, pulsing hard as he came in spurts into the other man’s arse. 

As the Doctor’s come streaked her skin, Rose came. Later, she wouldn’t be able to describe just what pushed her over the edge; she supposed it was the two sets of eyes watching her, hungry for her, enamored by her. Or perhaps it was that the slippery streaks on her chest made her feel more _his_ than ever before. She watched them intently for a moment as they caught their breath, leaning against the chaise, still watching her intently. She dragged her thumb through one of the wet trails on her belly and brought it slowly to her lips as two sets of eyes bore into her. She darted out her tongue for a lick before curling her full lips around her wet digit; she loved the taste of her Doctor. She pushed her thumb further into her mouth, eager for his flavor on her tongue. Her eyes fell shut and she let out a hum of appreciation.

She could feel her Doctors shifting over her, and when she opened her eyes again, the younger one was covering her body with his own, nestled between her thighs, his mouth inches from her breast. The other Doctor knelt on the floor beside the chaise, his cool breath cascading over her slick skin. He looked at her darkly as he ran his tongue through one of the warm trails that streaked the underside of her right breast. Her Doctor began to lavish attention on her other breast, lapping at his essence as he teased her nipple into a hardened peak.

Soon, he and his older counterpart had licked and kissed Rose’s silky skin clean. He could still smell himself on her; the scent of his release sunk into her skin…the satisfaction was primal, and the more he grazed his nose across her flesh, the more he wanted to have her again. “Rose,” he sighed against her skin as he kissed his way to her neck.

“Doctor,” she replied, “please, want you, again,” she sighed. The younger Time Lord moved into position above her, but her hand on his waist stilled him, “Not like this,” she whispered, pushing at him with her hip, urging him to roll over. “Like _this_ ,” she sighed as she rocked her hips, dragging her wet sex over his half-hard cock.

“Yes, Rose. Please. _Please_ ,” he whimpered, arching against her.

She turned her attention to the older Time Lord, “Help me along?” she asked, and he grinned.

“Always,” he said, bringing himself up behind her, chest to back, one hand snaking under her arm to pull her closer as the fingers of both hands pressed to her temples. She raised herself up and then slowly sank down onto her Doctor’s hard length.

As Rose rolled her hips against his, he caressed her legs and stomach, whimpering in Gallifreyan. As she smiled down at him, she felt the older Doctor at the edges of her mind, brushing tentatively at her consciousness before slipping in all the way, filling her mind with this moment, his memories of what was happening _right now_. “Oh god,” Rose gasped; she could feel her slick heat sliding up and down the length of her—the Doctor’s—cock. She could feel the tension in his belly as she rode him. She could feel her own desire coiling tighter and tighter. She could feel the man behind her; he was pleased with himself, but rather than arousal, she felt wonder at holding her in his arms.

The Doctor below sat up so he could hold them both closer to himself, and the three of them clung to one another. As Rose reached her peak, a single tear slid down her cheek as she forced away thoughts of goodbye. All she wanted was for this moment to last, to stretch into eternity as she tumbled from the crest of her pleasure, her Doctor crying out beneath her as he came against her fluttering walls. 

The three of them slumped into a sated pile on the floor, a tangle of limbs and whispers of affection.

“That was bloody amazin’,” Rose sighed quietly, already drowsy; both Doctors hummed in agreement and caressed her skin until she fell asleep.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go! I promise I won't keep you waiting so long next time.


End file.
